


Callsigns

by bluestockng



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Violence, alternate universe - some people live some people die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9546515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestockng/pseuds/bluestockng
Summary: "Jyn feels her emotions too violently.  Cassian pretends he doesn’t feel emotions at all."Jyn, haunted by visions of those she's lost, takes on dangerous missions with Cassian and Rogue One to discover their source.





	1. A Message from Mothma

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows my previous work "Think of all the time, time, time."
> 
> I've played with the timeline between Scarif and the battle of Yavin 4/Destruction of Death Star I a bit here to give our heroes some much needed rest, so the timeline itself is a bit different than in canon.

After barely three weeks of leave, the Alliance began giving Cassian new intelligence assignments, often taking him off-planet for several days at a time. He assured Jyn that these solo missions curried favor with Draven. The night before he left for the first time, Jyn had been unusually quiet and withdrawn She’d refused to kiss him or to hold him. If she could just explain herself, then maybe he could reassure her that everything would be fine. Even now, she admitted privately, she couldn’t communicate worth a damn. Glancing at him next to her, she admitted that he wasn’t much better. Give her an honest firefight any day over feelings. 

He had assured her the first time he took off, leaving her behind on the landing pad. She stood there, with other rebels milling about casting her judgemental looks. _Let them look_ , she thought. The whole base gossiped about the intelligence agent and the criminal sharing quarters. She couldn’t decide if she blamed him or the rebellion. He was good at his work, she knew. The best. Part of him must still enjoy the subterfuge, even if it was a slow march towards death. The darkest, angriest part of her knew that the Alliance didn’t want their greatest agent compromised. 

She didn’t share those feeling with Cassian, of course. Despite their closeness and dependence upon each other, she knew that his devotion to the Alliance was absolute. It had to be, she thought, or all the years of sacrificing himself would be worthless. Instead, she allowed a silent chasm to grow between them. When she kissed him goodbye, it felt strangely cold. Jyn Erso hated that part of herself that kept her heart guarded, but she did not admit to weakness easily. Jyn always knew he would return to the field. As long as he returned to her at night, she could bare to let him go every time. She never begged him to stay, he wouldn’t want her to.

“It’s just routine,” he’d tell her, before strapping on his holster, “it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Then why can’t you ever tell me where you’re going?” 

“We’ve been over this, Jyn. Draven says---”

“It’s only ‘need to know’. _I know_!” Her voice began to rise dangerously. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the bitterness--and the truth--out of her words.

She didn’t really want to fight with him. But, what else could happen when a fire challenges a rock? In her eyes, Cassian struggled to apologize and admit fault. In his eyes, Jyn would let her anger simmer until it inevitably blew up and caused mass destruction. He kept his emotions buried under his perfectly mastered pokerface, she felt her emotions too violently. Neither had been taught to apologize.  
She didn’t hate him. She didn’t dislike him. Once upon a time, she had every intention to despise him. That hadn’t lasted long. Jyn, ever the rebel, never picked the easy out when she had a choice. How could she tell him that she picked fights because she didn’t want to see him leave again? How could she tell him that every time he flew away, she wondered if he’d be killed and she’d never know the reason? Usually, she ignored her problems until they went away. Cassian was her favorite problem. He always came back.

Jyn felt ecstatic when Mon Mothma finally called her to the War Room for her first official mission under the callsign “Rogue One.” It didn’t matter that this mission would probably just be routine reconnaissance. Restlessness seemed as natural to Jyn as breathing. A quick mission, she decided, would be the perfect tonic for her recent edginess. Of course, Jyn suspected that the Alliance possessed ulterior motives for sending them away. With the Death Star plans still lost and Princess Leia still imprisoned by the Empire, the Alliance was willing to send their most famous heroes out on a mission, if only to build morale. By giving them the safest possible assignment, they guaranteed success and a morale boost for the entire base. Not to mention that a little adventure would be good for her relationship with Cassian…

Cassian and Kaytoo were already in the War Room when she arrived. They appeared to be lost in an urgent conversation regarding the datapad that Cassian held. When she walked in beside the others, he didn't spare her a glance. Business as usual. Couldn’t let the brass know he was sleeping with the former fugitive who had caused them so much trouble. Everyone knew about their relationship, but Cassian was all politics all the time. 

“Rogue One, it’s good to see you all in good health. The medical team informs me that you’ve all healed satisfactorily, which I am very glad to hear. There is an issue to which we must attend…”

Mon Mothma, ever graceful, appeared markedly out of place in the green-lit room. She always struck Jyn as a natural born leader, the kind of person who would run a country, not a revolution. As per usual, she dressed in all white, seeming out of place flanked by the droids and the high-tech tracking equipment surrounding her. Her elegant demeanor belonged to a more sophisticated time that died with the Jedis years ago. Did leaders like Mon Mothma consider the toll that Cassian's dirty work might have on him? Looking at Mothma's immaculate robes, Jyn thought not. Even so, Jyn supposed they needed moderates like Mothma to bring the ideologues and reactionaries to heel. In spite of her grace, Jyn sensed that Mothma was not so easily crossed.

“As you have likely realized, we have still failed to recover the plans to the Death Star that you procured from Scarif,” continued Draven.  
Jyn clenched at the word “procured.” That trivialized everything they’d risked and all who’d died. She opened her mouth to retort, when someone grabbed her hand from behind. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Cassian had moved behind her to join their group. He probably only grabbed her hand to spare himself embarrassment if she spoke too impetuously. She thought he wouldn’t have done it if Baze wasn’t standing next to her, blocking him from Draven’s line of sight. 

“We want to believe that Princess Leia is alive and will return to us, but our conviction in her homecoming wanes with each passing day. With the archives destroyed on Scarif, we have little hope of recovering anything meaningful that could help us. As a result, we’re sending the six of you deep into the heart of Imperial territory to recover any information that might help us destroy the Death Star without those plans.”

Jyn chanced a glance at Cassian. His face revealed nothing.

“We need you all to fly back to Eadu.”


	2. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian fly back to Eadu to recover Empire plans, but the base is not as they left it...

Their orders: find the control room, see if any of the computers are still functional. If so, recover whatever data was possible, no matter how trivial. If not, return safely to Yavin 4.

“Keep your heads down,” Draven warned them scornfully, “no heroics this time.”

Despite the inherent danger in purposefully flying into Imperially-controlled territory, the stakes didn’t seem particularly high. Jyn decided this trip was merely a political mission, meant to boost the spirits of the ailing rebellion. The derelict state of the derelict, ship, however, gave Jyn slight pause. For heroes of the Alliance, they certainly weren’t being sent off in high style. This class of ship—VCX-100—was excellent at sneaking past Empire scanners, but it looked like it had been resurrected from the scrap pile, haphazardly painted, and declared “passable.” U-wings weren’t exactly comfortable, but at least they looked safe.

“Draven isn’t subtle about his feelings toward Rogue One.” Cassian joked as he moved past her. 

He smiled at her and briefly touched her arm, in full view of the friends and strangers on the landing pad. _Now we're getting somewhere_ , Jyn thought. 

Jyn sequestered herself in an alcove. Between Bodhi, Cassian, and Kaytoo, there were just too many pilots in the cockpit. Better to avoid a fight, she decided. She could probably hear Kaytoo arguing with Cassian down in the cargo bay if they really got going. Baze and Chirrut found an ancient chess board, not even holochess, and decided to pass the time playing it at the kitchen table.  
Jyn settled back to watch at a distance. As she often did on long flights, she planned to catch a quick nap. Quickly, however, she realized that the game between Chirrut and Baze would not be compatible with rest. Neither man, it turned out, was particularly willing to admit defeat.

“You don’t like losing to a blind man. You can’t even accuse me of using the Force to cheat!”  
Baze grumbled in response. 

Eventually, Cassian found her hiding spot. He’d cornered her. She wished he wouldn't.

“Are you ready for this?”  


“I can take care of myself, Cassian.”  


“I know that. The others know that. But I also know, better than most, how some things stick with you and don’t go away, even when you try to forget.”

She looked up at him. 

“Did you know we’d be coming here?” Jyn’s accusing words fell from her lips against her will, betraying her fear.

“Yes.”

His direct response staggered her.

“All those missions you went on? When you’d leave early in the morning and come back late and exhausted…you were what? Making sure the coast was clear? And you couldn’t tell me?”  
“Draven wouldn’t let me, Jyn. He knows we’re…together. He doesn’t want me compromised.”  
“Compromised?” She asked incredulously.  
“I didn’t have a choice. He won’t grant me a commission for my own ship otherwise. I did this for us. For all of us. Trust goes both ways.” 

She hated that used her own words against her. She hated that he was right. Mostly, she felt like a nerf herder for doubting him. 

 

Bodhi landed the VCX-100 carefully, closer to the base this time. Without the need for stealth, they willingly took greater risks in case they needed to escape quickly. 

“Stay with the ship, Kaytoo.”

“Need I remind you Cassian, what happened the last time you told me to stay with the ship?”

“This isn’t Jedha, Kay. But it could be a trap.”

“There is a 28%—”

“Here, you can have my blaster. Will that make you happy?”

Cassian handed over the weapon, Kaytoo took it grudgingly and stalked back onto the ship.

Stepping out into the bright sunlight, Eadu seemed much too quiet and peaceful. No storm seethed overhead. The sky looked deceptively clear. It could have been an entirely different planet. Before, the landscape had been rent apart by rebel bombs and imperial guns. The evidence of the battle had not been swept entirely away by the hurricane. Instead, in the clear light of day, she could see the base in its entirety. It looked like a hull, a base built of scrap metal, singed, dented and missing a giant chunk of the bridge. Rubble jutted up everywhere. She forced herself to look more closely at the bridge, scanning for some sign of her father’s body. After running over the scene, she admitted to herself that any chance of recovery was impossible. The hurricane left most of the rubble untouched, but the casualties of Galen’s final stand were long gone. Taken by the storm or the imperials, she did not want to consider either outcome. It had always been easiest for her to think that he was dead, but now, she fortified her heart and forced herself to march on.

Turning around, if only to show the others that she was fine, Jyn realized that the others had stopped as well. She caught them looking at her. Chirrut leaned heavily on his staff, looking away. Bodhi fidgeted slightly and became intently interested by the goggles on his head. Only Cassian dared to meet her eyes.

“What is it we’re looking for, again?” Jyn asked carelessly, hoping that her nonchalant performance would convince them that Jyn was her normal self.

Forebodingly, she wondered if maybe animals and plants intentionally avoided places exposed to evil. Perhaps, after time, cruel deeds corrupted the land. She couldn’t even hear wind rustle through the trees, just the quiet plink plink of the rain on the bridge and her own footsteps. Eerie, unnatural, ominous. Returning here felt dangerously like waking the dead, bringing back ghosts that were best left forgotten. She wondered if the others felt it too. 

After some jerryrigging from Cassian, they were able to open the front door. Apparently, some power source survived the Alliance's bombing, providing the base with a low level of power. A single light in the ceiling flickered desperately, as if willing them to go turn around. Quiet as the dead, the small group moved down the long corridor. It seemed to go one forever, probably leading down into the heart of the rockface. Eventually, they located a central hub. Here, there was no need to tinker with the system. An explosion, perhaps originating in the control room itself, had blown the doors off. The control room felt dystopian. The Stormtroopers who guarded this outpost must have abandoned it in a hurry during the firebombing. Ash scorched up the walls, most of the glass in the room had been shattered from the force of the bombs outside the building. Wordlessly, they climbed over the wreckage into the room.

“This tech looks useless. Someone burned the system out. Maybe we could bring Kaytoo in, just to see if there’s anything left in them?” Bodhi suggested, as he peered at a blackened console.  
“Half of these computers have been shot. Whatever Stormtroopers Krennic abandoned must have taken their job seriously enough to dispose of sensitive data before getting off planet.” Cassian sounded mildly impressed at their dedication.

“If only they were as dedicated to the Force. Or to combat training.” Suggested Baze lazily.

“Does anyone see anything that might be useful?” questioned Bodhi, as he crawled under a table to inspect the condition of the wires.

“I don’t see anything important.” Offered Chirrut with his usual wicked grin, as he settled himself into a chair, sporting a large Imperial insignia on the back. 

“Alright, alright. I’d rather not go back to Mothma and Draven empty handed. Baze, help me get these blast doors open, will you? There might be something on the other side of use.”

As Baze and Cassian struggled with the doors, Jyn wondered if Galen worked here often, or if he had simply spent the last few days or hours of his life here. Which desk might have been his? In a kinder universe, he would have worked at a desk with a little holo of Jyn and Lyra resting on it. He’d come home to them at the end of a long day of work, he’d read her that one story she’d loved as a child, that one about Brin…

Distracted by her daydreams, she almost missed Chirrut’s call of “Stormtroopers!” as the blast doors opened and a dozen Stormtroopers charged into the room. 

A hair’s breadth before they charged, a massive, resounding explosion tore the world apart. She hit her head as she fell to the floor, blinding her for a moment. Her ears rang painfully. Someone, far off, screamed in agony. Friend or foe, she couldn’t tell. She stood up, grabbed her blaster out of its harness. She searched for glints of white armor in the smoke that threatened to choke her. In a split second, she decided that opening fire from her own position would be too risky. Instead, she unhooked her banfa baton and engaged them hand to hand, running from cover. Across the room, she thought she caught a glimpse of Bodhi’s legs as he sprawled out on the floor. She thought she heard Baze shouting Chirrut’s name, but she couldn’t be sure.

Jyn swung her baton at the nearest Stormtrooper, knocking him to the floor. In one fluid movement, she pulled his blaster from his holster before kicking him in the chest away from her. Idiot didn’t even pull his blaster when he ran into the room. She shot him in the chest before wheeling around and bashing his friend upside the head. His friend made a vain attempt to shoot her, point-blank. She ducked out of the way, as casually as one might avoid hitting their head. He was dead on the ground in an instant. Saw Gerrera must be smiling down on her.

The smoke hung thick in the air and a high-pitched whining still rang in her ears, dulling her senses. The stench of smoldering flesh gagged her. Not ours, she prayed. With increased visibility, she spotted Cassian on the far end of the room, standing near Bodhi’s body, shielding it from an advancing Stormtrooper who fired his shots wildly. Other Stormtroopers tried to block her path and engage her as she sprinted towards them. Between her injuries on Scarif and her weeks of idleness, she had worried that she wouldn’t be quick enough anymore. She needn’t have worried. With a few well-timed blows, all who crossed her fell at her feet. The old Jyn was back. She grinned. 

Across the room, Cassian, half-blinded by the smoke, didn’t have a blaster to defend himself. Instead, with a few quick movements, he knocked the blaster from the other man’s hands, the shots passing close enough to burn him but not close enough to do serious harm. Lunging, he grappled with the crazed Stormtrooper in a desperate bid to keep him away from the clearly injured Bodhi. Cassian threw his weight into the trooper, sending him crashing into a nearby table. Without hesitation, Cassian swept the stormtrooper’s blaster from the floor and shot the man with his own weapon.

“LET’S GO!” He bellowed as he stooped down and grabbed Bodhi under the armpits. Bodhis was nearly Cassian’s equal in height and weight, it would be slow going. There could be more Stormtroopers in the base, they could have contacted the Empire by now. They needed to run as quickly as possible, mission be damned. 

Leaving the broken and bleeding Stormtroopers behind, Jyn and the others turned tail and ran, scrambling over the debris in their bid to escape. They sprinted through the hallways, keeping their wits about them as best they could. The walls seemed to close in on her. Her life was a long, long line of close calls and accidental survival. Adrenaline kept her running, even as her body ached, wanting to give way out from underneath her. Cassian, half dragging, half carrying Bodhi, tried desperately to contact Kaytoo through the comlink. 

“The storm’s back!” He called to no one in particular. “I can’t hear a damn thing!”

They were in the very heart of Imperial territory, far in the outer rim. There wouldn't be an Alliance controlled system anywhere close, they need to gun for Yavin. If they were caught here...or if they couldn’t jump to hyperspace in time…! She dismissed the thought as she held open a door. Bursting out of the main door onto the bridge, she caught a glimpse of the ship. The party surged forward, so close to safety. 

“Run!” Jyn shouted, guarding the rear from the others as they took off for the ship in the distance. Jyn followed after the others as they made their way to the ship. Baze ran ahead with his partner slung over his shoulder. Cassian, fighting against the torrential flood of rain, struggled to keep a firm grip on Bodhi.

“Jyn, help me! I don’t want to drop him on the bridge!”

Jyn, a few paces behind, sped up. Before reaching them, however, she felt a foreign sensation. A burning in her chest, emanating from the kyber crystal hanging around her neck. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Slowly, she turned, back to the face the base. 

Even in the blinding rain, she could still see him there, in the middle of the bridge. The rain didn’t seem to touch him. Grey hair. Dark brown eyes. Imperial engineer uniform. His arm extended, reaching out, as if to call to her. 

_Stardust._

“ _PAPA!_ ” she screamed so loudly that she thought her throat would tear from the pain.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she heard Cassian shouting for her furiously over the din of the tempest that thundered around them. The storm was so violent that it risked sending them all into the cavern below. The raging storm easily drowned him out. Instead of listening, she stayed transfixed to the spot, staring at the place where her father stood, both arms outstretched now. 

_Stardust_. He seemed to call her. _My Stardust_.

For only an instant, she swore she heard the sound of guns and explosions echo off the hills as if she were back here, on that night all those weeks ago. Lightening rent the sky, striking too close to her, illuminating her father’s figure on the bridge. The ghostly specter vanished before her eyes. She snapped out of her reverie. She whipped around and witnessed a sickening tableau; Baze carried an unconscious Chirrut, struggling to remain upright. The rain poured on. Cassian had his arms locked around a now screaming Bodhi, trying to drag him nearer to the ship. Kaytoo, perhaps counting down the minutes until their safe return to the ship, came sprinting down the entrance ramp. With surprising gentleness, he lifted Bodhi and ran back into the ship, closely followed by Baze with Chirrut. 

Dazed, she barely noticed when Cassian roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her into the ship's hangar, out of the storm. The ship, entrance ramp now closed, dulled the noise outside. Jyn found herself left alone with the vast emptiness inside her. She didn’t notice Kaytoo and Baze placing Chirrut and Bodhi on the floor, beginning medical care. Turning from the grisly sight, Cassian rounded on her. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Cassian looked away for a moment to direct Kaytoo the cockpit. “Get us out of here. _Now!_ ”

After shooting Jyn what must have been a disdainful look for a droid, Kaytoo dashed off to start the engines. Within a moment, the floor lurched beneath her feet, signaling their departure.

“I saw my father.” Jyn sounded vague and vacant to her own years. She felt herself a million miles away and she couldn’t explain it.

“Like hell you did. Bodhi and Chirrut are badly wounded and you…did…NOTHING!”

Each punctuated word struck like a body blow, “If you couldn’t put aside your grief, you shouldn’t have come. You put us all in danger. If you can’t get your head on straight, I’ll sign your dismissal papers myself.”

He’d lost many men, many informants during his twenty year career. He’d confided in her once that he’d personally killed several of them. For the first time since she’d met him, she could see the dangerous, tortured man lurking within him. 

“You might as well dump me off here! Why wait until we return to the base? You’ve never had trouble leaving friends behind before!”

His face registered a race of emotion: guilt, rage, terror, _remorse?_ Jyn didn’t care. She turned on her heel and ran for the cockpit, ignoring his agonized cry of “ _Jyn!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed chapter two! I'll have chapter three up tomorrow. Since I'm splitting my writing time between this and my Intimacy series, it will be a few days after that until the next update. To everyone who reads, gives kudos, and comments: thank you! I never thought I'd get 10 hits, let alone have people who read and comment regularly. You guys make me feel like a real part of the fandom. As always, thank you for reading.


	3. Sinners, Released

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reeling from the events on Eadu, Jyn tries to understand what she's seen.

Jyn stood in the cockpit, pretending everything went to plan, and failing miserably. Closing her eyes, she willed the waves of nausea to abate. Her ears still rung painfully. How hard had she hit her head? She sensed that Kaytoo watched her intently. She wished he wouldn’t.

“My sensors indicate that you are experiencing high levels of stress, Jyn Erso.”

“You don’t say.” She retorted, weakly.

“I do say. That is the point of speaking.”

“Leave me alone, Kay.” 

“I can’t ‘leave you alone.’ With Bodhi Rook incapacitated, it has once again fallen to me to save your lives. Congratulations.”

_"Thanks."_

In her exhaustion, it almost sounded genuine.

Her knees shook so violently that she couldn’t stand. Deciding that Kaytoo might be right for once, she managed to maneuver herself into the co-pilot chair. She curled her knees up to her chest and stared straight ahead, willing herself to fall into a dreamless sleep until they were securely ensconced back on Yavin 4. She could shower, wash away the thought of Eadu, and her father. Cassian would hold her and she’d sleep soundlessly. She could sleep and forget the look on Cassian’s face as he’d rejected her. _Cassian._

Would he ever want her back in his bed now? She wasn’t sure. The first few weeks of their relationship, back on Yavin 4, had been blissful. It felt like they’d stolen hours from happier people’s lives. Bodhi teased them for disappearing for days at a time. 

“Strange,” he said one day in the mess hall, “that you and Cassian always disappear at the same time.”

The others, in good fun, joined in the mischievous banter. Happier days. Jyn suspected that the Force went out of its way to make her days unhappy. Sometimes the Force was fickle that way. At least Kaytoo stopped bothering her. She lived for small mercies. At any rate, those nights felt like a thousand lifetimes ago. Jyn felt a decade older.

She heard footfalls behind her. Jyn wiped her face hurriedly with the ragged, soaked edge of her jacket sleeve. Her bloodshot eyes, however, couldn’t be helped. Back on Jedha, she’d been grateful that Cassian had only found her with Saw after she’d cried watching her father’s message. Now, she didn’t possess a hope of hiding it from him. Wracked with tremors, she took, waiting for Cassian to say whatever cruel rebuke danced across his tongue. In a show of false bravado, she forced herself to stand, steadying herself with a hand on the chair’s back.

“How can I help you?”

She kept her eyes downcast, she wasn’t expecting that. He sounded so earnest standing. Jyn, normally eager to pick a fight, couldn’t muster the strength to unleash her fury at him. Searching her empty mind, she realized that she did not feel anger at all. Jyn's anger, so easily stirred, always disappeared as quickly as it came. Instead, she knew shame when she felt it. Admitting weakness was always difficult enough. Feeling that weakness, and being utterly powerless against it, was another thing altogether. 

“Please, talk to me. You’re scaring me, Jyn.” 

Willing herself to meet his eyes took what little strength she had left. Back in the hangar, he had yelled at her. Rebuked her. She’d run away. Now, she sensed nothing but tenderness in his demeanor. Only now she realized that blood soaked through his shirt. Bodhi’s blood. He didn’t even notice. It could just as easily be his blood. She fought down the bile that rose in her throat. She couldn’t fight herself anymore. She tried to start forward, but her shaking legs buckled beneath her and she collapsed to the floor. 

“I told you.”

Cassian, ignoring Kaytoo, cleared the distance to Jyn in one long stride. He didn’t hesitate, pulling her to him. Jyn clung to Cassian as if she were drowning; desperately reaching for the vanishing air. She felt Cassian’s heart beating a rapid tattoo against his chest. They were alive. Battered, but alive. Waves of confusion and relief rushed over her body. She became keenly aware of her soaked clothing and the fear that eroded her resolve. Growing chilly, she shivered against him as she grasped his shirt. He didn’t move, he simply let her be, perhaps afraid that she would cast off his comforting embrace. 

For a moment, Jyn became that terrified little girl back on Lah’mu, cold, scared, all alone in a bunker, having seen something terrible. She wanted nothing more than to curl up into herself and fall asleep, waking up to her father’s smiling face. She’d settle for Cassian and his bed, but they were thousands of miles away and the blissful ignorance of their romance was over. It would take work from here on out. With the pad of his thumb, Cassian brushed her tears away. So much for hiding that. 

He kept apologizing, over and over, repeating the words. He told her everything, as if it were being wrenched from him. The telling, like a baptism, was excruciating but relieving.

“Not all of those missions were just for Draven. I went back to find him your father. After all this time, I didn’t think I would, but I did. I buried him, Jyn, him and the other engineers. It doesn’t make up for what I’ve done, today or on Eadu before, I know he was a better man than me, but—” 

His voice shook and broke. He forced himself on. She cried anew. She didn’t attempt to control it.

“The Stormtroopers must have been sent back to Eadu sometime after my last trip…seen the graves, and laid the trap. None of this is on you. It’s me that ought to apologize.”

She fought back a hiccup.

“You don’t have to.” Jyn, brutally weak, couldn’t manage much but she was always obstinate enough to comfort Cassian with his own words, as he’d done to her.

_Maybe that’s why we make this work. We give as good as we get._

His hands felt rough, but she didn’t move away. Everything about Cassian, she realized, felt rough. His hands, his laugh, his mustache against her skin when he kissed her. In twenty years, how many times had Cassian actually embraced someone? Not often, she assumed. He was as new to this as she. For that matter, hen was the last time she had embraced someone that wasn’t Cassian? She wracked her foggy mind, but she could only picture a few snippets: Lyra holding her before giving her the Kyber necklace, Galen carrying her, Saw rescuing her. Were those memories even real? She wasn’t sure. She cried harder. She knew that she was making a fool of herself, a ridiculous spectacle, prone on the floor, in front of a slouching, grumpy droid and his mysterious Captain.

At the thought, she laughed loudly. _Cassian must think I'm deranged_. Maybe she was. Kaytoo, certainly, was already convinced. The ringing in her ears waned. At some point, Kaytoo disappeared, returning moments later with a threadbare, moth ridden, wool blanket. Jyn didn’t protest when Cassian wrapped her up in it. He took her into his arms, bundle secure, her head against his shoulder. Cassian wasn’t a large man by any means, but he carried Jyn as easily as if he lifted her using the Force. Dully, she noted that the ship had sleeping quarters. As if in a fever dream, she vaguely registered being laid upon a bed and Cassian curling up around her.

She could’ve imagined it, but she swore he whispered “I love you” into her ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three in the bag! Thanks for keeping up with me. It'll be a few days before the next update, I'm aiming for Sunday. After that I'll try to update every week on Sunday so I have time for other Rebelcaptain projects too.


	4. Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way back to Yavin 4, Jyn has some questions for Baze about the Force

She awoke, sometime later, aching, but otherwise feeling considerably better. Cassian had left at some point during her slumber, she didn’t hold it against him. Especially with two injured passengers. It struck her that he took great responsibility for his crew, he probably didn't sleep when she did. Of course he couldn't, when there was so much to be worried about. In an instant, the events of the day came flooding back. Chirrut, unconscious, Bodhi, bleeding out on the hangar floor. _Bodhi_. Bodhi, who never thought he was good enough. Bodhi, who kept trying to redeem himself. Bodhi, who had redeemed himself long ago. Bodhi, who’d saved all of their lives on Scarif and who carried her father’s message. She’d forgotten to properly thank him. She swung her legs out of bed, clutching the wool blanket around her shoulders. 

_Careful_ , she warned herself, still uneasy on her feet. She found them on the hangar floor. Apparently, Chirrut and Bodhi had been injured too severely to be moved into the sleeping quarters or even onto the kitchen table. Baze sat, as if in a vigil, over Chirrut’s body, whispering a chant. Cassian tended to Bodhi’s leg. He hadn’t changed out of the bloody shirt.

“How is he?” 

Cassian turned around, wiping his hands with a rag. He looked like a dead man walking. His face looked unnaturally pale, his breath ragged. How far were they from Yavin? How long since he’d slept?

“He’s stable. Packing the extra Bacta patches likely saved his leg. Kaytoo puts his likelihood of recovery at 87%. It’s the best we can do. Kaytoo decided to take the long way around, unfortunately, so we’re still a few hours away from Yavin. He was concerned that the Imperials spotted us…I think we’re fine now.”

“Cassian, remember what I said earlier? That I saw my father?”

He looked uncomfortable with this line of questioning, but he nodded all the same.

“I think it had something to do with my mother’s kyber crystal. It burned my skin when I saw my father.”

She shrugged off the blanket and pulled back her shirt slightly to see her necklace. She didn’t see any burns or marks from the burning. Cassian clearly didn’t believe her, but for her sake—and perhaps his own—he didn’t disagree. 

“I won’t pretend to be an expert, but Baze and Chirrut know the Force.”

Chirrut began to stir on the palette. Cassian turned at the noise, wobbling on his feet. Jyn reached up to steady him.

“Now it’s your turn to rest, Captain. I’ll take it from here.”

He seemed unwilling to go, so she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. His response, though enthusiastic, lagged slightly. He need rest, quickly.

“Get some sleep. You look terrible.”

He seemed reluctant, but after giving him a little push he finally broke away and made for the sleeping quarters. Jyn turned her attention to Bodhi. His body sprawled out on the floor, his breath sounded ragged but otherwise he seemed to be in better shape than she expected. Feeling the ache in her bones, she sat down beside Bodhi and gently kissed his forehead. If he were awake, he’d be horribly shy about it.  
Baze looked at her.

“How are you, little sister?”

“Not as bad as Bodhi.”

Jyn felt a nagging guilt for sleeping while Bodhi suffered. Curiously, she allowed herself to look at his leg. Even through the bacta patches and bandages, she could see that it looked horribly mangled. His skin was mottled red and blue from bruising and clotted blood. She suspected that he’d taken some shrapnel from the Stormtrooper grenade, as well. She’d seen men hurt badly before, of course. Many of Saw’s best soldiers were wounded or killed in combat. None of those fighters had been as innocent as Bodhi. He didn’t even carry a blaster.

“They’ll be fine.”

“I know. I just wish I could believe it. I hoped that this would be an easy mission.”

“From what I have learned, there is no such thing.”

Jyn knew that Baze Malbus was a man of few words. Still, she decided that he might have insight into the Force, despite his rejection of it.

“I know that you don’t believe in the Force anymore…”

He grunted in response.

“But you were a Guardian of the Whills, you lived in the Kyber Palace, Chirrut said that you were once the most devoted Guardian of them all.”

“Once, a long time ago. Before the Jedi fell, before the galaxy fell under Imperial control.”

Jyn detected a wistfully tone to the words. Maybe Baze wasn’t as detached from the Force as she once thought?

“You saw your Father on Eadu.”

“How did you know?

His chuckle sounded throaty and dry.

“I saw someone too, years ago in the Kyber temple. My mother. I’d forgotten her face, but it was her.” 

Jyn scooted closer to better listen.

“Of all the Guardians, only Chirrut believed me. He told me that Kyber holds onto the people we lose for us.”

“So the Force wants me to remember?”

“Fools like Chirrut can always find a way to explain everything with the Force.”

Of course, he only humored her. Still, the thought stuck in her mind. He’d turned back to his chanting over Chirrut. 

“Go to the Captain. I can keep watch now.”

Jyn wanted to argue; tell him that he’d been keeping watch for hours now. He needed rest, too. 

“Go find your captain, little sister.”

He must have felt her lingering. Picking up the blanket where she’d dropped it, she arranged it over Bodhi and tucked in the edges. Space could be cold, Bodhi should never be cold. Just as she walked away, she heard Chirrut stir once more, waking up. She felt terrible for spying, but she stayed nonetheless, framed in the doorway. Chirrut spoke too quietly for her to properly hear, but Baze, usually so impassive, clutched Chirrut’s hand to his chest. Jyn wondered if Baze had been picturing Scarif, when they’d nearly lost each other. Had he held Chirrut? Called his name? Grief and relief, unmistakably, etched Baze’s weathered face.  
Chirrut opened his eyes.

“Baze!” He called, loud enough for Jyn to hear. His voice sounded almost like that of a child, pleading, scared.

“Chirrut! What’s wrong?”

“Baze…I can’t…I can’t…see.”

Baze dropped Chirrut's hand.

“There’s something wrong with my eyes!”

He’d been saving that one since Scarif, Jyn felt sure. Before she turned away, she caught a glimpse of a kiss. She’d let them have their privacy now. No wonder he’d sent her away. As she made her way back to the sleeping quarters, wiping her eyes as she went, she couldn’t help but think of the future. Would she and Cassian be like that in thirty years? Bickering one minute, locked in an embrace the next? She couldn’t picture either Cassian or herself as old; she supposed that their near death experience on Scarif had something to do with it. They weren’t people who had any right to still be alive. Growing old together never factored into their romance. They had thought, of course, that their romance would die as soon as it had been born. It hadn’t seemed like a tangible reality until now. Jyn admitted that she liked the possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry it took this long to get Baze/Chirrut's relationship on the page! Chirrut's horrible joke at the end comes from the novelization for Rogue One. Also, I'll try to update this at least once a week, usually on Sundays. The next chapter will have more Jyn/Cassian, I promise!


	5. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogue One returns to Yavin 4 where they hear shocking news from a new friend...

Before they’d even come close to Yavin 4, the crew of Rogue One knew that something felt terribly wrong. Nearly two days without contact, though perhaps not unexpected given the secrecy of their mission in Imperial territory, boded ill for what they would find. 

The return of Rogue One to the landing pad at Yavin 4 did not illicit fanfare from those on the ground. Primarily because there was no one there to greet them.

“I think they've all gone.” Jyn whispered, more to herself than Cassian or Kaytoo.

Jyn stood on the entrance ramp, surveying the scene. Whatever had caused the Alliance to abandon Yavin 4 happened quickly. There were no grounded ships, however, spare helmets, discarded vessel parts, and other detritus littered the landing pad. 

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

For once, Jyn didn’t try to shush Kaytoo because she actually agreed. The base had been secure, what kind of a security breach would have caused this? Jyn and Cassian left Kaytoo aboard the ship to help Baze with Bodhi and Chirrut. Quietly, they made their way through the temple. The same ancient ruins, but with signs of a speedy departure; doors left open in haste, windows broken, personal items left behind. In one room, Jyn found a holo of two young pilots, linking arms and laughing. She didn’t know why it made her feel hollow. Without Cassian seeing, she slipped it into the inner pocket of her jacket.

“We need to keep moving, Jyn. Baze and Chirrut need medical care.”

Jyn nodded, snapping out of her reverie. Cautiously, blasters out, they moved down the halls until they reached the medical wing. With just the packs they carried, they gathered what supplies they could. The shelves and drawers, sparse even at the best of times, were nearly picked cleaned. What wasn’t gone had been thrown to the floor, trampled in the escape. At least the Alliance had bandages and bacta. Secretly, Jyn wished they didn’t. At the moment, they could be a thousand systems away, while Bodhi and Chirrut were wounded right here. Chirrut was awake and joking, but Bodhi remained sleeping for the time being. They recovered only dregs, but perhaps it would be enough to stabilize Bodhi. She could only hope.

Next, they turned their attention to the War Room. Jyn felt Cassian’s body tense expectantly as they entered the room. If the Alliance wanted to tell them what happened, this was the most likely place to leave a message. Surely, surely there must be something here. Empty, just like the others. Someone had shot all of the screens in the room, leaving nothing but the eerie green lights to greet them. After a cursory search, they abandoned the War Room as well. 

“What about our room?”

The power generator, still running, allowed Cassian access with his handprint. Unlike the other rooms, theirs looked utterly untouched. The piles of clothing on the floor indicated as much. Silently they began to search the room, wordlessly turning over their lives together as they looked for any sign or clue. 

Jyn tried to push memories of their nights spent in this room and in the bed. She couldn’t. They’d never return to Yavin 4, she felt sure. Despite Cassian’s apology and their mutual understanding after Eadu, Jyn knew their relationship wasn’t wholly mended. He still didn’t believe that she’d seen her father on the bridge. It wasn’t that Cassian didn’t believe in the Force, exactly. He just seemed more agnostic about it: “our goals are different”, he’d state simply. Even Jyn had her moments of doubt. Neither took comfort in praying. 

But she was sure, absolutely sure. Some form of her father—delusion or spectre—stood on that bridge. She felt in the burn in her chest; she just didn’t know how to convince Cassian. He, as a spy after all, dealt in truths and facts. Sometimes half-truths and rumors, yes, but always something provable, tangible. 

Just as they were ready to give up and return to the ship, she heard a small _beep_ emanate from the corner where she’d, only somewhat successfully, piled her laundry. Cassian, apparently, heard it too. He was across the floor in a minute, tearing away layers of discarded, unwashed clothing to reveal a small droid. An R3 unit, painted yellow and green. R3-S9. Had it been forgotten by its master and taken refuge here in its fear?

The droid _beeped_ expectantly at them.

Perhaps not.

“Do you have something for us?”

_Beep beep beep beep_

She crouched down to its level.

“Show us.”

In an instant, the unit projected a hollo for them: Mon Mothma.

“Jyn, Cassian. There’s little time. We’ve abandoned the base. It’s too dangerous to stay. But you must know: we’ve destroyed the Death Star…”

Shock washed over Jyn. The death star? Destroyed? Cassian’s face looked as impassive as ever.

“…Miraculously, Princess Leia returned to us in your absence, bringing the plans that you first took from Scarif. It left us no time to send a message. The planet Alderaan was destroyed before we could make a move. We believe that the Empire is watching Yavin now, waiting for us to return. We cannot. You will find us on the planet Hoth. Even now, Draven does not wish me to tell you where we are located. I think you deserve to know, if you should wish to join us. If you do not return to us on Hoth, I will understand and will remain grateful for the sacrifices that you and your team have made. If you will not join us, I ask that you destroy this message immediately. I must go—may—the—force—be—with—” 

The message cut off. Mon Mothma’s willowy frame disappeared.

Jyn felt numb. Late to the game, as always. She stood there, staring at the little droid. Cassian returned to his senses first. In a moment, he’d taken her in his arms. Before she could react, he’d pushed her to the wall and begun to kiss her. As her mind struggled to keep up and register—the Death Star destroyed, she wondered if she’d ever truly understand his enigmatic nature. Cold one moment, burning passionately the next. She might not ever understand him, but at this moment, she didn’t need to. Instead, she answered his kiss with even more fervor. He gripped her tightly against his chest, arms wrapped around her. Tangled together, they’d fallen into the bed together when R3 began beeping, as if insulted. They broke apart, shamefaced, withering under the gaze of the scandalized droid. Unbelievable given the circumstances, Cassian smiled at her. 

“Good thing you never use the laundry chute.”

 

The trip to Hoth shouldn’t take long, but Kaytoo pronounced that their chances of making it without a refueling to be “nearly suicidal.” At any rate, they could use more bacta patches for Bodhi to keep him steady until they reached the base on Hoth. He’d woken up, but he was experiencing a tremendous amount of pain. Chirrut, at least, was in a good mood and joking when they returned. Baze propped Chirrut up against a wall while he tended to Bodhi. Treating Bodhi, apparently, mostly involved trying to calm him down. As it turned out, Bodhi Rook—nervous and overly talkative at the best of times—grew only more so while wounded.

“Hey—hey—hey! Baze! I don’t trust those bandages! Don’t put that on my leg—CHIRRUT WHY IS HE DOING THAT?”

“Don’t worry, Bodhi. We’ve had worst scrapes than this,” chimed Chirrut, in a voice that unmistakably sounded amused.

“Well I HAVEN’T!”

Baze, to his credit, continued on, ignoring his charge. Though his bedside manor sorely lacked in empathy, his methods proved effective enough that Jyn grinned while she gripped Bodhi’s hand in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. 

“Bodhi, we’ll get you some real bandages at our next stop. For now, we need to get off planet as quickly as possible. Cassian thinks we can refuel and pick up medical supplies on the Ring of Kafrene. He has contacts there. If all else fails, we can steal a medical shipment from the Empire.”

“Yes! Yes, you know, that makes me feel much better you know, with the whole ‘Alliance abandoned Yavin and the Death Star destroyed’ thing and then the fact that we’re probably being stalked by the Empire right now, and now I’m being told that you and Cassian are gonna go steal bandages from the Empire for the Imperial defector on an Imperial-controlled trade post—great plan!”

After Bodhi, Jyn thought that Kaytoo’s complaints would be a welcome return to normalcy. She, however, did not expect that he’d take the addition of R3 to their team with pure and utter loathing. She never would have believe that Kaytoo could dislike someone more than her.

“Cassian. What is that _thing_.” 

Kaytoo refused to even look at the little R3 unit.

R3 gave a little _beep_ and moved forward, aiming to playfully bump Kaytoo. Instead of returning the affectionate favor, Kaytoo aimed a lazy kick at the droid. Beeping incessantly, R3 spun around and glided out of the room. Jyn could hear R3 beeping shrilly down the hall. Kaytoo, somewhat calmer now that the offending droid left his line of sight, returned to his seat to monitor the ship’s progress to the Ring of Kafrene.

“Oh, now look what you’ve done. You hurt his feelings, Kay.” 

The ghost of a smirk played on Cassian’s lips.

“Am I not _good enough for you_ , Cassian?” 

Jyn Erso, tired of their bickering, kneaded her temples. She only let the relief of the Death Star destruction wash over her when she finally sat down. Everything for which they’d risked their lives had been destroyed without them. It didn’t make her sad, exactly. It just didn’t fill her with the joy that she’d expected. Why weren't they celebrating? She supposed that their straits were dire at the moment because their mission was far from over. Jyn silently wished that she had been there to see its destruction; she wished that she could have seen her father's revenge play out. How strange, she noted, that he had appeared to her. He could've been a delusion or a specter, either way, he had appeared to her, perhaps in the very moment that the Death Star met its demise.

Wanting to push her father's memory as far away as possible, she let her mind drift back to the room she'd shared with Cassian on Yavin 4. If it weren’t for R3, they might still be together in that bed. For the sake of the mission, if not their relationship, she’d push that passion aside. They could celebrate their victory properly when they made it to Hoth. For the time being, there were too many dangers and obstacles in their way for either to let themselves get distracted like that again.

Naturally, Jyn broke that resolution almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being too long, so I decided to post the first half early. I hope you don't mind :)
> 
> To everyone (but especially to my faves who comment pretty much every time I update), thank you! I'm still kind of in awe of the responses I've gotten. Thanks for being awesome <3


	6. Mayhem and Missions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian get into trouble on a supply run to the Ring of Kafrene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a warning, this chapter is more explicit than past chapters and my other works (language and action), hence the new warnings.

In retrospect, jumping Cassian as soon as Kaytoo left the cockpit was not Jyn’s most strategic move. But hell, it felt good. No more than a week had passed in their last tryst, but to Jyn it had felt like an eternity. And besides, they still had that unfinished business from their bedroom on Yavin 4.

“Jyn, what the hell—” 

She’d grabbed him, holding him to her. She had to stand on her toes to reach his mouth, but she ignored the ache in her feet. It just felt so good to kiss him again. She decided right then she’d never let a day pass without kissing Cassian Andor. Damn anyone who might get in her way. She’d shoot them.

Any doubts that Cassian harbored melted away the moment that Jyn pushed him into the co-pilot chair. He would never admit it, but Draven had been right along: Cassian’s judgement flew right out the window whenever Jyn tempted him. 

She sat in his lap, pressing hot kisses to his neck and running her hands through his hair. He hung his head back, exposing more of his neck for her. When she gently sucked just below his ear, the tiniest moan escaped from his lips. It sounded so beautiful that it nearly broke her heart in two. She redoubled her efforts, and began to tug at his belt while nipping at his neck. Even through the fog of longing, she knew they wouldn’t have nearly as long as she’d like. 

It didn’t take long to remove all of the clothing between them. She threw her shirt and bra across the cockpit, his shirt ended up somewhere else entirely. Their movements betrayed their urgency; the need to be together felt beyond their control. No matter how far they strayed from each other, they would always find each other again in these moments when they were together.  
A moment later, in spite of herself, Jyn stifled a laugh. Cassian noticed and stopped moving.

“Jyn?"

“We’re fucking in Kaytoo’s chair! As if he doesn’t hate me enough!”

Cassian laughed “Then we don’t tell him!” 

The faster she moved above him, the tighter he held her. She silently wished that she could feel his arms around her like this forever. Distantly, she recognized that their pace felt too quick, too urgent, it would all be over too soon. Neither of them minded. There would be days and nights for slow and gentle, this moment was for insanity and wildness. Glad to be alive, glad to be alive together.

Eventually, his movements beneath her became too erratic and her breathy cries became too loud. She pressed her mouth against his forcefully, hoping it would be enough to quiet them both until the end. She was only half right.

“Cassian? Are you in the cockpit? I’d like a word with you.”

Kaytoo’s bored voice drifted into the cockpit.

“Oh, _shit_.”

Jyn thought fast. Her shirt and bra were still across the room. At the time, it had seemed like the right move. If she made a dash for it, she might be dressed in time. She left Cassian to pull up his pants and find his own shirt. _Every man for himself!_

A second later, Kaytoo walked into the cockpit. He looked from one to the other. They’d managed to dress, albeit poorly. Cassian skipped a button. Jyn missed a sock. They both panted heavily.  
Kaytoo cocked his head.

“Your faces are red. Your heart rates are high.”

“We were fighting.”

Cassian kept his face absolutely straight, but his eyes sparkled with delight.

“Yeah, Kay. We were fighting really _hard_.”

Jyn couldn’t help herself. Cassian’s face twitched.

“Yes, Jyn was practically screaming at me.”

Kaytoo stared at Jyn.

“I really wonder what he sees in you.”

“Himself, probably.”

Cassian snorted, but Kaytoo didn’t seem to notice.

“At any rate, we should arrive at the Kafrene system soon. I should think that you can put your petty arguments aside long enough to get the fuel we need.”

Kaytoo turned to go.

“Kay, what was it you needed?”

“Baze told me that Jyn saw her father on Eadu. I wanted to let you know that she’s insane. We should dump her on Kafrene. Her and that _droid_.” 

After Scarif, Jyn had hoped that Kaytoo would warm up to her. He hadn’t really, but then again, the only recipient of his rare affection was Cassian.

“I believe her, Kaytoo. That’s the end of it.”

After casually pulling on her missing sock, Jyn stood up. She lightly kissed Cassian before turning to leave.

“I’ll be with the others, Cassian.”

She left the cockpit, leaving Cassian alone with Kaytoo.

“I should let you know, Cassian, that there’s a 13% chance that Jyn will end your relationship when she realizes that you just lied.”  
  
Jyn hoped that several days without proper rest and food would lend her and Cassian the sort of rugged, desperate look that would allow them to blend in on Kafrene. In her travels, she had heard of the Ring of Kafrene, but never visited. Now, she could see why.

Buildings—if they could be called that—lined the streets, dilapidated, crumbling, recycled from other structures. They crept and clawed desperately towards the sky, as if they too wanted to escape. Impossibly thick crowds packed the main arteries of the port, limiting mobility and increasing the danger of pickpockets. A stench that Jyn didn’t want to place emanated from the grates in the ground. Women stood in windows: some human, some twi’lek, some of indeterminate race. They boldly beckoned to men and women alike, coaxing them into their dens to spend the last of their coin. The artificial light overhead blared bright red, casting an unnatural pallor to the faces of everyone that Jyn and Cassian passed. 

Jyn, not usually one to feel fear, kept close to Cassian. He must have sensed her apprehension, for he slipped his hand into hers. Here, they could be whatever they liked. They weren’t Alliance rebels, they were an outlaw couple. Despite the degradation of her surroundings, the thought gave her comfort. Quickly and quietly, they edged through the crowds towards their destination: a seedy bar where Cassian once picked up informants.

“I’ll need to leave you here, Jyn. Anything goes wrong, anything at all, you call for me and I’ll come running. Keep your hand on your blaster.”

He reluctantly let her hand go and stepped through the doorway. Jyn struck the toughest pose she knew, crossing her arms and pressing her back sharply into the doorframe. Back in her days as Liana Hallik, she’d relied on her demeanor alone to scare would-be attackers. If that didn’t work, Saw taught her to be a dead shot.

As she waited alone, she sensed him before she saw him. Just like before, she felt an eerie twinge that someone watched her closely. The kyber crystal scorched her chest. Half-hidden by the crowd in the distance, she Saw Gerrera. He strode through the crowd with an unfamiliar ease. His legs were flesh, not mechanical. 

“Saw!”

She silenced the part of her brain that might have told her to ignore him. 

“SAW!”

A few people in the crowd turned around to look at her, but most didn’t pay her any mind. She tried to push through them, squeezing her way between stinking bodies. She couldn’t lose him. Not again. She spotted him ahead, he’d stopped dead in the middle of the street. The others, jammed close together, moved around him as if he were invisible. She supposed he must be.  


_My child._

“Saw, _please_.”

She stretched out her hand, just as she had during their last moment together on Jedha.

Before the vision could do anything, someone grabbed her from behind and spun her around. Her senses felt so dull that she didn’t even attempt to defend herself on impulse, as she usually would. 

“Jyn, what are you doing? I know where we need to go.”

Jyn shook her head violently

“It’s Saw, Cassian. Saw!”

She whipped around, but he had gone, just like Galen before him. Figures in the street gave them both a much wider berth, staring as they passed. The scene she’d caused was drawing too much attention to them. If they weren’t careful, Stormtroopers would likely descend upon the outlaw and his insane lover in the street.

“I saw him, Cassian. I saw my father and now I’ve seen Saw. Both of them, I could almost reach out and touch him—“

“ _Stop_.”

In that moment, she knew that she had crossed him one too many times. His anger surpassed shouting. He looked like a man keeping a dangerous temper in check. With a stab of sickness, she knew that in his past life, he might’ve shot her then and there. 

“Cassian, I’m sorry—“

“No, you’re not. You’ve endangered this mission enough. Get back to the ship.”

She moved closer, as if to pull him to her.

“ENOUGH.”

Her resolve melted away. With a shaking hand, she reached for the Kyber crystal around her neck. Without breaking his gaze, she roughly wrenched it front her neck and flung it at his feet. In a moment, she’d vanished into the crowd. She left him standing alone, for the second time in as many days. She didn’t even bother to check his eyes.

 

Jyn didn’t return to the ship right away. Instead, she’d found herself a dive bar, throwing back shot after shot. She pickpocketed a drunk in the streets for the clink. This wasn’t a romantic life, certainly, but it was a life she knew well and fell back into mimicking easily. She played the part flawlessly; she hunched her shoulders, she rapped on the bar loudly for another round. For the first time in years—since she’d spent nights gambling in Saw’s shady den—she wished for a drag of a cigarette. Nobody messed with a jilted broad slugging booze unless they wanted a blaster shot to the sternum. 

 

Meanwhile, Cassian stayed the course on the hunt for med supplies and fuel. The meds were easy enough if you knew the proper dealers. Dodging the Stormtroopers, though, that was the tough part. This time of night, the port practically crawled with them. He moved with the crowd’s pace, focusing his energy on escaping notice. His last run-in with Stormtroopers on Kafrene left three men blood and dying in the streets. Cassian didn’t want to repeat that disaster. He could be reasonably sure that no one had gotten a good enough look at him and the ones who had, fortunately, were long dead. He banished those thoughts to the deepest, most hidden place within himself and refused to look. 

Loaded down with med supplies, only the fuel remained. Bribing a fuel supervisor on their landing platform might be his best at this point, given the attention Jyn attracted in the street. Jyn. He’d placed his burning fury towards her to the back of his mind. A clouded mind would get him killed one day. Jyn likely would get him killed faster, and herself in the process. He thought of Scarif and shuddered.  
In spite of his anger, he’d picked up her kyber crystal and put it in his pocket. Cassian and Jyn weren’t trained in the art of apologies and forgiveness. Whenever he apologized, she always told him he didn’t need to. For their relationship, they both put more stock in actions than words. He’d return the kyber crystal to her once they’d both calmed down enough

How could he tell her? How could he explain that every unnecessary risk she took put herself in harm’s way? Every time she narrowly escaped harm, he thanked whatever powers beyond existed. He wasn’t a praying man, but he silently thanked the Force. The thought that she saw visions of dead men terrified him, utterly. For many years, he trusted in his senses and his instincts alone. Trusting in other people was too dangerous. He admitted quietly that he still struggled with trusting Jyn sometimes. 

Afterall, dead men returning from the grave couldn’t be a good thing, in any galaxy. He’d put enough men in the crowd to the wary of the dead. How many men had died by his own hand? Thirteen? Sixteen? How many died due to his intelligence or his negligence? The number climbed higher the more he tried to hold it down.

Cassian took much longer than Jyn to notice that a specter watched him. The shade from Cassian’s past stood in an alleyway, half covered by the darkness. Curly dark hair, thick beard, a few inches taller than Cassian. He might’ve been any other stranger, but Cassian realized it wasn’t any other alleyway. He’d stood there, an eternity ago, and placed a blaster to the man’s back and pulled the trigger.  
Tivik looked human. He didn’t look like a spirit or a ghost or a trick of the light. Cassian’s stomach flipped and his head began to spin with nauseating vertigo. He stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move. Dimly, he realized that his pocket burned hot through the fabric of his pocket.

“Why are you here?” Cassian’s voice, usually calm and confident, sounded afraid to his own ears, as if his voice belonged to another man entirely. The kind of man who could feel remorse.

_Fulcrum._

Tivik didn’t say anything more because he didn't need; Cassian felt the unspoken accusation: Was it worth it? Was killing me and everyone else worth it in the end? 

Cassian’s entire body shook violently and his legs collapsed beneath him. He hit the ground hard, letting out a small scream. The rest of the world seemed to fade away from him: it was just Cassian Andor, alone in a dark alleyway with nothing but his own excruciating guilt and the kyber crystal clutched in his hand.


	7. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogue One reunites with the Alliance on Hoth and Jyn receives some much needed advice.

By the time that Jyn got back to Rogue One, she had geared up for a fight. For Cassian Andor, however, fighting was the furthest thing from his troubled mind. He returned to the ship minutes after Jyn, lugging a pack filled with bacta patches and medkits. He’d bribed the right man and their refueling was underway. Anyone who witnessed him negotiating wouldn’t have ever guessed that minutes before he’d buckled in an alleyway, begging an invisible dead man for an absolution that would never come. 

Jyn kept her distance from him. She curled her hands into fists at her sides and tried to ignore him. She’d become so attuned to his voice over time that she had trouble drowning it out. Instead, she focused on the empty feeling in her stomach and the curious buzzing in her ears from seeing the ghost of Saw Gerrera.

While Cassian charged about, barking orders and ensuring everything was in ready condition, Jyn sought out Chirrut for companionship. She found him in the sleeping quarters, propped up against a pillow, under a threadbare, brown woolen blanket. R3 sat nearby, apparently having taken a liking to the warrior monk and appointed himself self-proclaimed watch-droid. Chirrut wasn’t asleep, instead he was keeping a close watch on Baze, who snored rather loudly in the bunk across the room.

“May I?” Jyn asked, gesturing at Chirrut’s feet.

“Please. R3 has been keeping me company, but you do make much better conversation.” 

She sat down, cross-legged, at the foot of the bed. She wasn’t sure where to begin with her questions, so instead she picked absentmindedly at a hole in the blanket. Nimbly with her fingers, she pulled thread after thread as she searched the room mentally for some form of inspiration.

“Jyn, you didn’t come here to pull apart my blanket.”

Startled, she looked up to see that Chirrut faced her. She wondered how he was able to know every move she made, despite his gray and glassy eyes. Had Chirrut been born blind? She’d never thought to ask.

“I’ve been seeing things, Chirrut. On Eadu, I saw the ghost of my father, and just now on Kafrene I saw Saw Gerrera. I’ve never heard of that happening before, until Baze—”

“Yes, Baze did tell me that he saw his mother once in the temple on Jedha. I believed him then and I believe you now.”

“But why? Why would Baze see his mother but you haven’t seen anyone? If it’s the Force that’s doing this, why wouldn’t you have seen someone? You’re more spiritual than he is.”

“It was years ago—when we were young men. Baze was the most devoted man that I knew. I suspect, however, that Baze saw his mother because he lost her as a child. Even if he couldn’t recall her face, the Force remembered for him. I haven’t seen anyone because I never met my family. I don’t know if belief and spiritualism are related at all.”

Jyn shifted on the bed, the hole in the blanket forgotten.

“I told you once that the strongest stars have hearts of kyber. No one truly understands all of the powers that kyber possesses. I like to think that kyber holds onto those we love for us, and keeps them close. Many Guardians of the Whills, however, believe that some souls are so closely connected, that they share hearts of kyber.”

Jyn glanced at Baze. Chirrut chuckled and inclined his head towards her.

“Perhaps I haven’t seen anyone because I’ve yet to lose any of the people that I love the most.”

As if by habit, Jyn touched her throat, expecting to find the kyber crystal necklace that Lyra gave her on Lah’mu.

“My kyber necklace! I dropped it during the mission…”

Chirrut’s face changed subtly at her words and Jyn knew he saw right through her.

“Is it the kyber then, Chirrut? Channeling the Force?”

“I know not, Jyn. All I know is to trust in the Force. Rejoice for those who become one with the Force. When you let them go, they let you go.”

As if to end the conversation, he sank back against his pillows, exhausted. Jyn squeezed his hand and took her leave.

 

Cassian and Kaytoo charted their course for Hoth. The best word to describe the Hoth System was remote. Jyn had never even heard of it, as far as she could recall. Kaytoo informed her that it would be cold. Privately, she wondered if anything could be colder than Cassian Andor.

Soon, she discovered that Hoth could indeed be colder than Cassian Andor. When they landed, she could hardly see anything outside besides the violent snow storm that surrounded the hidden Rebel base. Stepping outside, Jyn was nearing buffeting over by a gust of ice and snow. Ignoring the encroaching cold, Jyn helped Kaytoo and a medical team unload Bodhi on a stretcher. 

All the way, he continued to assure them that “Really, I’m fine, honestly, this isn’t even that bad! No, no, no, NO, I don’t need any more bacta patch---ARRGH!”

“I’ll visit you soon.” She assured him, letting go of his hand only as the team carried him away. Kaytoo returned to the ship to take inventory.

She turned to see Chirrut, leaning heavily on Baze, slowly make their way off the landing pad closely pursued by R3. Only after seeing them trundle away together did she finally notice the cold enveloping her. She shivered violently. Jyn knew cold, of course. She’d spent enough nights hunched under nothing more than her jacket to understand the chill. This kind of cold, however, was completely foreign to her. It was as if the cold penetrated her very bones, making them ache. She longed for a warm bath and a warm bed.

In spite of herself, she searched the landing pad for Cassian Andor. Heavy snowfall notwithstanding, the landing pad of the newly minted Rebel base was heavily crowded. Through the sleet, she found him: huddled with Draven and Mon Mothma under an ice outcropping overhead. Huddling against the cold, they beckoned her over. Reluctantly, she joined them.

“Jyn, I’m so relieved that you have found Echo Base. I’m glad to see that little R3 delivered his message.”

Jyn could barely discern Mon Mothma’s words over the den of the snowstorm.

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation inside?” shouted Draven

“Yes, I think so.” Agreed Mon Mothma, who wore only her customary white robes.

“Sergenat Erso, your services are no longer needed at present. You can find a spare room for yourself in the East Wing.” Draven dismissed her as he turned away to follow Mon Mothma inside.  
Jyn stood, angry and rooted to the spot. Cassian watched them go, knowing that he needed to follow but seeming reluctant. Snow collected in his dark hair, but he didn’t seem to notice.  
“Here,” Cassian muttered, taking off his blue parka and placing it around her shoulders, “you’re practically shaking.”

“Captain!” Draven shouted, cutting short any possibility of a real conversation between Jyn and Cassian. 

Cassian leaned in towards Jyn and whispered to her, his mouth grazing her ear lightly. 

“My room is in the West wing of the base. Find me there tonight. Room W-151.” 

Huddling in his parka, she watched as he turned to follow Draven.

 

Jyn wouldn’t admit that Cassian giving her his parka made her happy. Instead, she wanted to commit to her anger. Jyn hated that Cassian could be hot one moment, then cold the next. She hated that he doubted her, even after all they’d experienced together. She hated that he put himself in danger for her. Mostly, she hated that she endangered him. He took risks, she knew, to be with her. Draven obviously knew about their relationship and certainly made his job more difficult to dissuade Cassian from pursuing her. But Cassian, loyal to a fault, took on the dangerous missions if it meant he could have the Alliance and Rogue One, too.

_No. I want to be mad at him._

If she continued down that train of thought, she realized, she’d recover from her seething before she had a chance to call him out. Instead, she carried her lone bag to her new room, E-278, after being informed of its precise location by a droid. Her room in Echo Base was smaller than her room on Yavin. The walls looked as if they’d been carved out of an ice cavern and seemed much less homey than her previous station. Even now, the chill pierced through her many layers of clothing.  
Jyn acclimated to her new living situation by taking a hot shower. She sluiced the water over her body, thankful to finally wash days of grime away. As always, she tossed her clothing into a pile. Searching through her bag, she found a clean gray shirt and coarse black trousers. Not the most attractive outfit, she noted, but she wasn’t exactly going to Cassian’s room to seduce him.  
After cleaning herself up, she quickly discovered that room E-278 was about as far from room W-151 as physically possible. 

_Damn Draven_

Still, she managed to sneak out of her room without drawing attention. She suspected that plenty of rebels and Alliance members spent their nights in other people’s rooms. On more than one occasion on Yavin, she’d left Cassian’s room in the early morning to find one or two other people in the hallway, quietly making their clandestine exits. Luckily, the corridors seemed empty tonight. 

She rapped once, twice, three times on his door. He didn’t make her wait long. He opened the door and stepped aside, letting her in. His room was much larger than hers, befitting his station and “hero” status.  
“You wanted to talk?” She questioned icily, drawing her inspiration from the environment around her.

“I thought that you might want to. After our fight during the last mission—”

She cut him off.

“ _Our_ fight? Seriously? I’ve had strange visions of dead people and instead of supporting me, you’ve shut me down and turned away from me.”

Cassian stood his ground. Clearly, he’d prepared for the worst.

“You’re so damn caught up in doing everything that Draven says that you don’t even care that I’m losing my mind.” 

“Jyn, it isn’t like that.”

“What is it like then, Captain? You talk about me endangering the mission, but you didn’t even go to see if Bodhi and Chirrut were okay. Instead, you were off getting cozy with Draven and Mothma, eager to get your next mission away from us, I bet!” 

Irrational, she knew, but she wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt her. 

“No,” he said calmly, before turning away, “I wasn’t taking ‘orders’ from Draven. Quite the opposite. I believe my exact words were ‘I’m done with doing your dirty work. Find someone else or I’m leaving the Alliance.’ Something to that general effect, I think. Probably swore a bit more, actually.”

“You resigned?” She asked, aghast.

“Not exactly. I just won’t be acting as Fulcrum anymore. No more intelligence missions, no more sneaking around, no more going off on my own. It’s just missions with Rogue One from here on out.”

Her desire to thunder away at him died immediately. She didn’t know whether to kiss him or shoot him.

“Draven can’t afford to lose me, so he agreed to it.”

“Oh.” 

“Oh? That’s all I get?” Cassian asked playfully, as he leaned against the wall.

“Why? Why quit?” Jyn’s mind was a jumble, she tried to put the pieces together but failed.

“Because I’m tired of almost dying every time that I leave you. Because I’m afraid that if I die on a mission, you’ll end up seeing me as vision just like you saw Galen and Saw.”

“You didn’t believe me before. Why now? What changed for you, Cassian?”

Cassian measured his words carefully. Jyn could tell how much the words pained him.

“I saw someone too. Someone I killed a long time ago.”

Jyn sat down on the edge of the bed, staggered.

“What do you mean?”

“You dropped your mother’s kyber necklace. I picked it up to give to you later. On my way back, I saw my old informant, Tivik, standing in the alleyway where I killed him. He spoke to me like he was still alive. But he didn't really speak, it was more like his voice echoed in my head...”

He looked as confused as she felt.

Noticing the tears in his eyes, Jyn stood up and wrapped her arms around Cassian’s middle. Damn her pride. On reflex, he drew her close and rested his chin on her head. Damn _his_ pride. After a few moments, he pulled himself away to look into her eyes. Without breaking her gaze, he took her kyber crystal necklace out his pocket and tied it around her neck, brushing her skin gently with his fingertips. Apologizing would never come naturally to either of them. Fortunately, loving each other—and forgiving each other—did. Taking his hand, she led him to their new bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! To my loyal readers: you guys are amazing and I always love to read your comments. They make my day!
> 
> Also, I'm drafting my next multi-chapter rebelcaptain fic, which will be called "Extraordinary." I'm deciding whether or not I should wait until Callsigns is complete to publish. We'll see how it goes! Finally, this week I have several job applications to complete, so please forgive me if I don't update as often as usual. I'll still try to write everyday. <3


	8. Pillow talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian is ready to break in their new bed, but Jyn isn't willing to let him off the hook that easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Valentine's Day, I'm posting this as a standalone chapter before we get back to the action. I've had some trouble posting today, so if you happened to read this while AO3 double posted the same chapter, I apologize. I think I've got it under control now.

She didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of seeing him like this. They lay together, cloaked in darkness and tangled sheets, but shining so brightly. He kneaded her lower back with his fingertips, massaging away the weariness of the day. Jyn always carried her stress in her lower back and Cassian realized immediately. Working slowly, he erased all signs of tension from her body. Languidly, she rested her head upon his bare chest. She’d draped one arm across his chest and caressed him gently, while she curled her other arm under their pillow.

They waited until their breathing returned to a normal pace. Often, he’d fall asleep first and she was free to let her mind wander. She thought of Lah’mu’s rolling hills and black sand beaches, she thought of the temple of kyber on Jedha, and the cold caverns of Hoth. Her mind continued on to images of Galen alone in an empty field, Lyra crumpling in the dirt, and a structure of stone crumbling away. She shivered.

“Chilly?” Cassian asked sleepily.

“A little.”

He turned sideways in the bed, letting his warmth envelope her. His free hand fanned the length of her body, urging warmth back into her skin. He rested his hand just above the curve of her perfect hip so that he could hold her waist. He looked at her now; dark eyes framed by thick brows. She loved to run her hands through his black hair. Would she live long enough to see that hair turn grey? Would they find themselves entangled in ten, twenty years? She found herself longing for the answer.

His eyes moved over her body lazily. She wore nothing, except for the kyber crystal necklace resting on her chest. A sight he had seen dozens of times and yet seeing her naked stripped away all of his resolve and vulnerability. He’d never made demands of her, he simply took her for what she was. An unruly, mercurial, unstoppable woman with too much resentment and not enough restraint.

For the first few nights she’d climbed into his bed, she had tried to cover herself with sheets and hands. Her cheeks had burned bright red under the intensity of his gaze once. In time, however, she forgot to cover herself and he forgot to look away politely. Now, she gladly courted his eyes. They made their love in the open, unashamed. What was the point in hiding from each other?

Jyn never understood the purpose of pillow talk. Before Cassian Andor lit up her nights, she’d never seen a reason to stick around after sex. Admittedly, her experience with the subject was somewhat limited, but he had been inexperienced as well. Something about Cassian, from the first time they were together until now, always left her wanting to learn more about him. Usually a reserved man, he became far more expressive in the hours following a tumble in the sheets.

He asked her dozens of questions, about her life, about her past, about her family, about her years on the run. In return, she listened to him reveal his insecurities and his uncertainties. He rested his head upon his free arm, but kept one hand touching her. He’d spent a lifetime at war, killed many men, but he’d never lost the tender part of himself. Or, perhaps, she had reawakened it within him when she hugged him on Scarif’s beach.

She told him about her conversations with Baze and Chirrut and their theories about the kyber crystal around her neck. He listened, intently, all doubts gone from his mind. They were in this life together. He realized that long ago; it had taken nearly losing her twice for him to understand. He had plans to take her far away, so that they could learn about the crystal around her neck. For tonight, however, he would try to unburden her mind. Somehow, the conversation turned to the subject of mentors. If he harbored doubts about discussing touchy subjects like death, he did not show them to Jyn.

“I had a mentor, too. A bit like, Saw, actually. Less paranoid, maybe. But no less dedicated. He raised me after my father died. He brought me into the rebellion.”

“What happened to him, Cassian?”

“He ended up like most mentors—dead.”

“He must’ve taught you well, though. And anyway, apprentices are always meant to outlive their masters, like parents outliving their children.”

Perhaps to steer away from the sordid subject of their dead parents and mentors, Cassian kissed her slowly.

“Trying to make me forget?”

“Mhm?”

“Kissing me does many things to me, but it does not make me forget, Captain.”

Jyn propped herself up on one arm and stared down at him.

“Forget what?”

“That you thought for a while that I had lost my mind.”

Cassian laughed and tugged her on top of him. He held her fast.

“I never doubted you for a moment, Jyn Erso.”

It was her turn to laugh. Cassian Andor had once been the best liar in the galaxy. Apparently, she’d undone him.

“Oh, really? What was all that bickering about me endangering our mission, then?”

Cassian checked her eyes and could tell from the way they danced with mirth that she wasn’t being serious.

“I would never accuse you of such treason!”

“Surely not, when you’re the biggest traitor the Alliance has ever seen!”

“How do you figure that?”

Resting upon his body, she grinned down at him as she searched for a retort.

“Well, first you organized a team to attack Scarif—against orders! Then, you shacked up with a former criminal. You threw Draven’s orders right back into his face, and now you’re in bed with me when he’d probably rather have you all to himself.”

“You’re a crazy woman, Jyn Erso,”

She cherished the sound of her name on his lips. She bent down and peppered tiny kisses on his neck while a hand traced his chest down his stomach to the subtle V of his waist. She could take her time right now, torture him with the promise of her body, or she could give in to her own desires and do things quickly. For once, she chose control.

“Do you want me, Cassian Andor?”

“More than anything.” His voice sounded low and husky.

Pressing herself near to him, she laid her trap.

“If you want really want me,” She fitted her body to his and heard him groan in response, “then admit that you’re crazy, not me.”

In a single movement, he flipped her onto her back.

“I’ll admit that you’re a wicked woman, Jyn Erso.”

Underneath him, she hooked her legs around his waist, drawing him in.

“And?”

“And we’re both crazy.”

_"But?"_

“But me most of all.”

Laughing, she curled her arms around his neck and kissed him. In seconds, all thoughts of kyber crystals, mentors, and traitors were forgotten in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t the first time that night and it wouldn’t be the last, either. More than an hour later, as Cassian drifted off to sleep beside her in bed, Jyn took the kyber crystal in her fingers. She probably imagined it, but Jyn could have sworn that it burned a little brighter.


	9. Briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After recovery, the Rogue One team is informed of their next target: a dangerous extraction.

Jyn visited Bodhi and Chirrut the next morning, she’d planned to visit earlier but Cassian kept pulling her back into bed. Or, rather, she kept pulling him back. Eventually however, Cassian really did have a meeting he needed to attend. Jyn, comfortable and cozy under a half dozen thick blankets of Bantha fur, refused to budge even after Cassian refused to kiss her. In a moment of whimsy, he stole all of the blankets and sat upon them, forcing her out of bed to avoid frostbite.

After scurrying across the room and frantically searching for clothing, Cassian took pity on her and threw her one of his own shirts. It sagged around her petite frame, so she belted it and threw Cassian’s parka overtop. He’d made her cold, so she’s make him cold too. Without complaint, he piled on several sweaters, looking much puffier than usual. 

“Draven will love that,” she teased, indicating his sweaters, “give my love to Kaytoo.”

He smiled at her and gave her cheek a quick peck before heading out the door. While Cassian attended debriefings with Draven, she would see to their friends. She zipped the parka up to her neck, but she could still feel the bitter cold biting her. Living in rooms carved out of the ice itself certainly didn’t help matters. She almost wished for those stiflingly muggy nights on Yavin 4.

On her trek to the medical bay, she wondered if she’d ever get much use out of her own room. She suspected not, since it had not been their habit to use her quarters at the previous base. Cassian never asked why he was never invited to her place and she didn’t offer answers for questions that weren’t asked. In truth, she secretly one place that she could run to and seclude herself if the need arose. Jyn Erso had spent much of her life trapped within the bunker she’s created for herself within her own mind that it felt safe somehow to have a place set aside.

The droids kept the medical bay, as expected, brightly lit with artificial light. It carried the stench of decay, somewhat obfuscated by the scent of sterilization chemicals. She’d always hated such places. Even in the base case scenarios, medical bays meant prolonged recovery periods, recuperation, and endless therapy. Relief washed over her when Chirrut cheerfully informed her that he and Bodhi would make full recoveries.

“We’ll be back on our feet after one more dip in Bacta.” Bodhi assured her when he saw her skeptical face, “That droid over there says that those supplies from Kafrene helped.”

“The Force watched over us all.” Chirrut chimed in gently from his bed. 

Bodhi fidgeted nervously. “Jyn, do you think that they’ll let us stay together? I mean, our first mission and two of us got wounded pretty badly. Is that why Cassian isn’t here? Is he being dressed down right now, is he going to—"

Jyn cut him off with a glance.

“I don’t think there’s any need to worry yet. We gave them the information they needed. There isn’t anything left on Eadu worth finding. And anyway, that mission was more about boosting morale than intelligence gathering. They just weren't expecting the destruction of the Death Star or they wouldn't have sent us at all."

Jyn perched on the end of Chirrut’s bed. They all felt comfortable around each other now. She appreciated the camaraderie they shared. It had been a long while since she’d felt kinship with anyone. Saw had made her feel at home in his cadre, of course, but his eventual abandonment bittered those memories for her. As did their final meeting when his paranoia complicated the once caring man who had raised her to be a warrior. She hadn’t had much of a choice in joining Saw’s partisans. Rogue One, of course, originated as an accident. But they’d stuck together, survived together.

She surveyed the men around her. Someone had positioned Chirrut against an unusually large number of pillows. Jyn wondered if Baze had fluffed them up for Chirrut himself. She suppressed a smile even as Baze grunted. Baze sat, slouching, on a chair next to Chirrut’s bed. His hand rested on top of the covers, casually within a few inches of Chirrut’s. Bodhi’s body was so wrapped in blankets and bandages that he didn’t full upper body movement. Still he wore the goggles on top of his head. 

Her first impressions of them, all of them, had been very wrong indeed. She’d taken Chirrut for a con man and Baze for his muscle, both looking for an easy mark and quick coin. Cassian seemed like a cold man faking warmth to gain trust. She’d thought Bodhi jumpy and altogether incapable of bravery. They’d all jumped at the call while she’d tried to ignore it as long as possible. The thought shamed her now.  
She’d never been compelled by cowardice, just survival. She hoped the others knew that. With the way they looked to her, like a leader, she supposed that they must understand. Lost in thought, she didn’t hear when a small crowd of people entered the medical bay through the doorway. Someone cleared their throat before she noticed.

Mon Mothma swept over to the congregation, trailed closely by Cassian, Draven, and the towering Kaytoo. Neither Chirrut or Bodhi endeavored to look less ridiculous for her presence. Draven, perpetually exasperated with Rogue One, showed his displeasure only through a raised eyebrow and a sullen expression.

“I’d hoped that I wouldn’t see you all back in the medical bay so soon,” something like humor flickered in Mon Mothma’s eyes, “but as I see, you have a tendency to, well…challenge my expectations? I would not have sent you had I known this would happen. Even so, I am relieved that you returned in one piece.”

“If you have something for us, tell us.” Baze growled. Jyn supposed he wouldn’t forgive Mothma so easily for Chirrut’s injuries.

“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have something for you,” Draven interrupted, “we’ve been informed that after another day of rest that Chirrut and Bodhi will be fit for duty once again. Fortunate, because we have need of your team.”

“Us specifically? There are dozens of other—” 

“ _Don't_ speak over me, Imperial pilot. You remember your old friend, Saw Gerrera?”

Instinctively, Jyn checked Bodhi. He shrunk into his blankets, away from Draven. Bodhi, unfortunately, knew Saw too well. In the days after their encounter with Saw, she’d pieced together the details from Bodhi’s nervous confessions. It churned her stomach to think of it and she fought back the rising bile. Saw Gerrera, the man who had raised her, had once been gentle and kind. A good father. It terrified her to think of what he had become in her absence. His paranoia wrought permanent damage upon his psyche and now Bodhi paid the price for it. It hurt to think, but dying on Jedha might have been a form of mercy for Saw’s tortured heart.

“Yes, we remember Saw Gerrera.” Cassian, ever the diplomat, interjected to take the attention off of Bodhi.

“As it stands, a few of his partisans made it off of Jedha just before you did. They’ve reached out, sent us a transmission, detailing their location. A risky move, but a brave one. They’re looking to make peace and join the rebellion.” Like Cassian, Mon Mothma seemed dedicated to keeping the peace between her high command and her foot soldiers.

“Their leader is dead and they’re running scared. We think that they’re afraid we’d kill them if we found them, “ Draven sneered, “at any rate, they’re cowering in the Terrabe sector, on a moon called Boxbi. It’s not far from Jedha. They request an extraction. They’re vessel is out of commission and the Empire has increased patrols and inspections. Despite the presence of a nearby trade route, they can’t stowaway without the risk of discovery and if they can’t get their ship fixed, they can’t get off the planet anyway.”

“We’re being sent to pull them out. There’s an academy for Imperial officers in the sector, so this mission will need to be more discreet than usual. We don’t want the entire Empire coming down on our heads so we must maintain complete transmission silence. They don’t know that we’re coming. We get in, we get them out. Simple extraction.”

“Indeed. Our probability of success with minimal casualties is 80%.”

As much as she wanted to believe Cassian’s words—and as much as she tried to ignore Kaytoo’s—Jyn knew there was never such a thing as a simple extraction. She monitored him closely, looking for small tells in his behavior that might clue her in to his feelings. Like always, he kept his demeanor cool and detached in front of Draven.

Later that night, ignoring the feeling of dread in her stomach, Jyn tried to straighten her thoughts. Once more into the fray. This time, she wouldn't let anything compromise her or distract her from the goal. She knew that if her mother appeared to her—the one parent she had yet to see—she would endanger them all. Seeing the shades of Galen and Gerrera had rent her apart, seeing her mother might actually get her killed. When they departed the next morning, the kyber crystal no longer hung around her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a word of warning: the next chapter will be twice as long as usual because I couldn’t find a way to split it without interrupting the action. Also, Intimacy will update tomorrow and Callsigns will update Sunday morning! There will only be a few chapters more of Callsigns, we're officially into the homestretch :) Thanks for reading!


	10. What She Became

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian go on a mission to extract the last of Saw's rebels, but it becomes more dangerous when Jyn must venture out alone...

She didn’t know the men they’d been saving. All of her old friends were long dead, bodies scattered across two dozen star systems. Jyn couldn’t even keep track of them all anymore. And now here she was, on a simple extraction mission—deep into Imperial territory—to rescue men who had tried to kill her the last time they’d met. The Alliance must be desperate for warm bodies if they were willing to accept Saw’s men without Saw.

They’d been given two ships: Rogue One and a YT-2660 light transport, full of rebel foot soldiers in case the extraction turned into an ambush or firefight. In and out. Simple extraction. 

_Then why do we need the fucking cavalry?_

She would act the envoy; they would certainly remember the small woman who’d run into the line of fire for a child. If they hadn’t been in the Holy Quarter on the day of Jedha’s destruction, she could rely on the legends and myths that had cropped up about her to work up a report. Saw encouraged his followers’ mythologizing of Jyn’s past, hoping that they would never guess her true identity. Little good that had done either of them in the end.

Getting to Boxbi proved easy enough, the Tarrabe Bypass trade route was bustling and busy so they blended in without much effort. They’d still needed to be careful. Saw’s leftovers might not even know they were coming; they had no reason to believe their desperate plea would be answered. If her team showed up and surprised them, they might open fire. Sending Jyn out first as an ambassador of good faith was the best option.

Cassian clearly didn’t like the prospect, but he agreed to it eventually. While they waited for Kaytoo and Bodhi to bring their ship down, Cassian pulled her aside into an alcove.

“Are you sure that you want to do this?’’

“Of course not. If they’re anything like Saw, they’ll probably think it’s a trap.”

She tried to keep the nervousness in her voice at bay with a paltry joke. She didn’t have Cassian’s knack for evasion. This time, however, she could read his fear plainly. In an instant, he pulled her into his tight embrace. She tried not to think of the elevator on Scarif, where they had stood barely an inch apart. Fear, determination, and desire had been etched on his face then, too. They hadn’t done anything about it then. Driven by something outside of herself, she took Cassian by the shoulders and pulled his face down to meet her mouth.

She kissed him as fiercely as she dared and he returned her kiss with enthusiasm. She wanted to admit her feelings for him, and kissing him was far easier than summoning words. She pushed away the mission, her fear, her doubts and let her worries go. All she needed, in this moment, was his arms around her and his mouth on hers. It wasn’t a joyous kiss of survival. It wasn’t a tearful kiss goodbye. It was a promise, a promise they’d struggle to articulate out loud. A promise to return to one another, a promise of home. After a minute, they broke apart. 

He didn’t let her go. She held him, but she didn’t cling. Before he could disappear, the consummate captain one more, she took him by the arm.

“There’s a story I’d like to tell you someday. One that I loved as a child. The main character, Brin, reminds me of you. He was always trying to get home.”

Amused, he smiled down at her. “What’s it called?”

“Octave Stairway, my father gave it to me.”

“Well, then I expect I’ll hear it soon.”

Jyn didn’t understand that comment, so she shrugged it off. She’d have time to unravel his cryptics later. Cassian turned to go, leaving her alone in the alcove. As he left, she realized that now was the moment to tell him how she felt. Unspoken promises turned too often into the most bitter regrets. Before she lost the courage, she called his name.

“Cassian!”

The rest in the footfalls told her he’d heard and not left. He came back for her.

“I—may the Force be with you.” 

The look on his face told her he knew that wasn’t what she’d actually wanted to say. 

Jyn went out alone, the crew watching from the boarding ramp. Bodhi and the pilot of the carrier kept their engines running but landed at a great distance to avoid spooking the survivors. To Jyn’s chagrin, the coordinates Draven provided were vague at best. Approaching alone on foot was risky, but she hoped it would alleviate their panic. Still, she let her fingers drift to the hilt of her blaster in its holster. She could shoot from the hip if necessary and both of her truncheons were easily accessible for close-range. It wasn’t much but it kept her moving one foot in front of the other.

She could feel the eyes of the others, both the Rogue One crew and the support team, on her back. Childishly, she felt like a little girl once more, playing under the watchful eye of her mother. Striding out alone, she boldly dared anyone to attack her. Maybe she’d earned all of Saw’s legends after all. Keeping her senses alert for any signs of movement at the treeline, she darted across the landscape nimbly. The density of the tropical trees looked a little like Scarif. The thought chilled her. Still, she moved forward. She chose to focus on what might happen rather than the beauty and tranquility of her surroundings. 

From the deck of Rogue One, Cassian stood erect as a statue, hoping that his posture would compensate for the utter terror he felt. He didn’t want to send her out alone. What if she saw another vision? What if she got _shot_? She had no loyalty to Saw’s men; she didn’t even know them. He couldn’t shake the idea, however, that he’d have done the same thing if he was asked.

“Are you afraid, Captain?” Chirrut asked softly from behind Cassian.

“I don’t like variables.”

“Jyn isn’t wearing her necklace of Kyber.”

“What?”

“Her mother’s necklace. She isn't wearing it.”

The thought choked him. She’d left it behind—her most prized possession—so that she wouldn’t let him down again. He damned himself for not being a better man, more worthy of her. He wished that he’d been brave enough to confess his love while she was awake. Helplessly, he wanted to shout after her so she would know. 

He didn’t take his eyes off her back even as he willed her on.

“She will be fine. The Force watches over her.”

Jyn knew she’d disappeared from view when the trees grew so thick she almost tripped over creeping vines on the ground. She couldn’t turn back now. Going off directions from the sketchy coordinates proved difficult in the uneven terrain. Over time, she began to find evidence of a crash; debris and metal strewn randomly on the ground and in the bushes. Eventually she came to a clearing in a copse of trees. Cleverly hidden within the clearing she spotted a crude, makeshift village of about a dozen tents and in their center, what was left of their ship. The last of Saw’s band of partisans milled about, clearly dangling on the precipice of starvation and desperation. Most of them sported obvious wounds, wounds that had gone weeks without treatment. If Draven was expecting this group to be fighting ready, he was mistaken. 

“I come in peace!”

Jyn shouted from the edge of the clearing. The eight partisans she could see—many of races other than human—looked up at her. A few reached for weapons.

“No. No! It’s me. It’s Jyn Erso. Saw’s daughter. I’m with the Alliance, I’ve come to rescue you.”

Her words came out in a jumble. She’d wanted to be diplomatic, postured, controlled. Her lack of tact didn’t seem to matter to them. They moved in closer, still wary. They looked too weak to fight hand to hand, and if they wanted her dead they’d have fired already.

“Jyn Erso? We thought you died on Jedha with Saw.” One man, almost as grizzled as Saw himself, approached boldly.

“I escaped, the same as you. We received your transmission, I’ve been sent in with a rescue party. They’re a ways away and we’ll need to move fast.”

The man croaked a throat, hoarse laugh.

“Move fast? We’re barely on our feet. Can’t you call this rescue party?”

“We’ve been told to keep complete radio silence on all frequencies, not even comlinks are permitted. This area is being heavily patrolled by the Empire. One intercepted transmission and this whole moon becomes a warzone. We don’t need another Jedha.”

“We’re all wounded. Half of us are on death’s door…please.”

Jyn thought fast. 

“We need to get moving. Strip the tents, make stretchers. We’ll carry the ones who are too weak to walk. We’re nearly an hour hike from the edge of the woods but we might not have that kind of time.”

The partisans who had enough strength heeded her orders, as if they’d been delivered by Saw Gerrera himself. In minutes, they’d formed stretchers for six partisans who were so ill they couldn’t talk or care for themselves questions. In a tight pack, they moved through the trees, led by Jyn.

They kept quiet while Jyn listened intently to every rustle in the trees. They crept slowly on through the underbrush and the thickets of tangling vines. They marched on and on, until Jyn could not longer process the time as it passed. She let her self believe, finally, that this mission would go smoothly. 

The grizzled man appeared by her side, hardly an inch taller than she. He looked like he’d spent three lifetimes at war.

“On your ship, did you bring the Bacta we asked for?” The man looked at her expectantly as she picked up the pace.

Confused, Jyn spoke a little louder.

“What do you mean ‘that we asked for’? We brought Bacta patches on principle, but neither of our ships are large enough to accommodate full Bacta tanks.”

“Well, some of the others needs immediate medical attention. I thought when we requested Bacta that your people would realize how dire the situation for us is…”  
“I never heard of any request,” said Jyn, growing uneasy.

“It was in our second transmission. We’d just lost Yarliv, he was the third one to go since the crash, and we were desperate.”

Jyn kept moving.

“Second transmission?”

“Yes, when our first was ignored, we sent a second transmission after with the request.”

“I told you before that we’ve been maintaining silence—if you sent out a transmission that means tha--” 

A sound. A sound she prayed that she imagined. The sound of TIE fighters screeching into the atmosphere.

_"RUN!"_

Jyn screamed loudly over the sound of the fighters opening fire on the woods. The partisans carrying stretchers could only move so fast, but the others sprinted with Jyn. Blinded by fear, she led the charge through the woods. They burst from the treeline as the canopy above them exploded into flames, causing a burning tree to collapse onto one of the fleeing partisans. Jyn heard the strangled scream but it was too late, she kept pushing the others forward. In the distance, she could see Cassian, Chirrut, Kaytoo, and Baze racing her way. Even with their speed, it was a lot of ground to cover under fire. Closer to their position, several Imperial transporters dropped ground troops…

“HEAD TO THE SHIP!” 

She barked orders the way Saw taught her. It was her command now. She stood back, covering the partisans with her meager blaster as they—even at a dead sprint—failed to cover ground quickly enough. At this distance, she could pray that the Stormtroopers on the ground would continue to aim poorly and shoot erratically. The glare from the sun made accuracy difficult, but she managed to shoot a few troopers as they ran for her. Cassian and the others were still far away and the partisans were losing steam fast. The rebel support crew joined the fray, desperately keeping the troopers away from Rogue One. But with the TIE fighters in the air, the Empire held a huge advantage, especially if they landed a direct hit on either vessel.

Turning from the approaching troopers, Jyn tried to help a woman bearing a stretcher. As Jyn put out her hand, the woman took a blaster bolt to the back and dropped to the dirt, dead. Jyn couldn’t shoot and carry at the same time. 

_"Do you want to die? GO!"_

The other partisan holding the stretcher, a pimply Mirialan youth, stood rooted to the spot with fear. Had Saw not taught him any better than this? If he couldn’t fight, he’d be killed. Better to send him away.

“I’ll take care of this one, run!”

Without another word, he dropped his side of the stretcher and took off after the others, leaving Jyn in the middle of no man’s land with Stormtroopers advancing and TIE fighters locked on. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she took aim and fired, bringing one down. Then two. Then three. Even so, if she didn’t get the woman who lay unconscious on the stretcher moving, they’d soon be overrun. Taking the edge of the tent in her hand, she dragged the stretcher across the ground. Cassian, Chirrut, Kaytoo, and Baze were much closer now, they’d reach the escaping cadre in seconds. The remnants of Saw’s band were so feeble, they needed herding. If even one of her friends broke off to aid her, the partisans would never make it to the ships. 

If she shouted, they might hear her. Over the sounds of the TIE fighters overhead and the blaster fire, she screamed as loud as she could. Begging, praying that they’d hear and obey. She couldn’t save Saw, just like she couldn’t save Galen or Lyra. But she might be able to save Saw’s men. Such an act would hardly constitute absolution or redemption, but she lived on borrowed time that was quickly winding down.

“LEAVE ME. TAKE THEM AND GO!”

She could imagine Cassian’s face when he heard. But if he didn’t take the survivors now, there would be no saving them. She could make a stand here, give them time to run. It wouldn’t be a bad death. It would be worthy of Saw and Galen both. Turning to face the Stormtroopers dead-on, standing over the unconsciousness partisan, she continued to fire at the Stormtroopers. She’d have to go to the truncheons in a moment. She chanced a glance behind her to see if Cassian had gotten Saw’s men away. They were nearly halfway back to the ships now…

When the first Stormtroopers tried to beat her down, she drew her first truncheon and knocked him squarely on his head. Satisfactorily, she heard a sickening crunch. He dropped to the ground. One after the other, she swung the full force of her body behind her weapons, landing blow after blow. She ran on pure adrenaline now. She thrashed the men as they approached; bashing her fingernails bloody against their bodies. Overhead, a TIE fighters fired a proton torpedo too close for her to dodge. Reacting on instinct, she pivoted and used the body of a trooper to block the bulk of the blast. Even so, the force of the explosion threw off her feet and into the air. The partisan on the stretcher took the full shock of the explosion. Even as her head rang painfully, Jyn laughed giddily as she pushed herself up off the ground. She would die today for people she didn’t know, who had wanted her dead back on Jedha. She’d sacrificed herself so that others could keep on living. With a feeling of resolution, Jyn realized that she had finally become the legend Saw wanted her to be.

_Sometimes bad people meet good deaths._

Galen, Lyra. Would they recognize their daughter now? Swinging, striking, killing without mercy. It was the one skill she’d honed beyond all others, but she feared it wouldn’t be enough to make them proud. In his message, Galen said he’d only thought of her when he was strong. For years, she’d only thought of him as dead. “Easier that way”, she’d said. But she'd known the truth since Scarif: there was nothing easy about dying.  


What would they want her to do? 

_They'd want me to run._

The crystal didn’t hang around her neck, she saw no visions, heard no voices. Even so, she felt all three of them urging her on. With no one left to rescue except herself, she took off for the ships, leaving the dead behind her. Her bones aches painfully and it was slow going. There weren’t enough rocks and trees to hide underand the TIE fighters had taken a special interest in killing her. She tried to anticipate where they’d fire next.

_A direct hit will be quick._

Her senses clogged with the stench of burning flesh and vegetation. Under the brilliant sky, she saw a figure running back in her direction: through the explosions, through the Stormtroopers on the ground, back to her. Wildly, she pictured Cassian coming to her rescue. She quickly realized, however, that it was Baze. With his repeater canon, he blew away every enemy as he forged a direct path to her. 

She could feel her energy draining from her limp body with each step. If he didn’t reach her soon, she’d crumple into the dirt. The clenching in her chest concerned her: the blast could’ve caused internal bleeding. She felt her joints gritting together as she struggled to move. Baze killed three Stormtroopers who were gaining ground on Jyn. In a swift movement, he picked her up and began his suicide run back to the ship.  
“Where’s Cassian?” She called, through the throbbing that scraped at the marrow of her bones.

“With the partisans. I wouldn’t let him come back. He’s taking them back now…”

She took this to mean that Cassian would head back to Hoth with the rescued cadre. He, at least, was safe. She felt the ground shake: the support carrier had taken off and must be preparing for the jump to hyperspace. It ascended over Boxbi, climbing high into the sky, carrying Cassian away from her to safety. She watched, as if in a trance, as the support vessel took a direct hit from a TIE fighter. Her breath caught in her throat. The ship plunged, trailing smoke, into the heart of the forest below. The explosion from the impact, though deep in the woods, sent a shockwave reverberating through her body.  


This life was not hers. The pain wasn’t real. Baze kept running without looking back, but Jyn had no choice but to watch the trail of smoke. Distantly, she heard a haunting sound: primal, visceral, animal. A shrieking that did not stop. It rattled in her bones and echoed inside of her skull. She didn’t see anything, she didn’t feel anything, she could only hear the shrieking. She didn’t realize it was her own screaming until she’d been placed in a bed on Rogue One. Still, she couldn’t stop.

How many? How many of the partisans had been on the carrier? How many of the rebels made it out alive? None of it mattered because Cassian hadn’t. It would have been much easier if she’d died on Scarif. She wished that he’d died in his fall from the Archive tower on Scarif. She wished that she had released her grip and followed him down into that dark abyss…

Dimly, she knew that’d taken off. Made the jump to hyperspace. Still the screaming. In her madness, she clawed at her vest, looking for the crystal. She’d left it, of course. Left it on the dresser in Cassian’s room. She began to cry wildly, panicked. 

Bodhi appeared and he held her, tried to restrain her madness. Somewhere, distantly, she heard Chirrut’s voice. She heard Baze’s voice. Voices she didn’t know. No Kaytoo. No Cassian. She didn’t even remember being brought onto the ship. Had Baze dragged her? She wanted to fight and destroy; she wanted to challenge the entire Galaxy to face her, but it was done fighting her now. It took away everything it could. It was finished. Violently, she fought Bodhi, begging him, pleading with him, clawing at him like some savage creature caught in a trap, until grief and agony numbed her suffering. Cassian died in the crash, she could see no way around it. He'd always come back for her, yet she had left him behind. Her screams gave way to sobs, punctuated by snippets of words that Bodhi could barely distinguish: “I wasn’t wearing it! I wasn’t wearing it! I can’t bring him back!” 

Living in this galaxy had taken so much from Jyn that she had nothing left to give.


	11. Traitor Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn wants to be left alone, but Bodhi knows she needs a friend more than ever.

Grief, though not unfamiliar to Jyn, had always been a disposable emotion. In the past, she could dismiss it, lock it away, ignore it. She’d always tell herself: well, I didn’t know them that well. She’d tell herself that it was a clean death, a good death. Mourning was a rare luxury for some like Jyn, who witness so much death. Even with her father, she’d not the time to properly internalize her sorrow because of the mission. When Lyra died, Saw kept her thoroughly distracted by letting her play with marbles on the floor. When Saw died, she’d weaponized her anger. Now, she could barely drag herself out of bed.

But Cassian Andor’s death?

This time, unfortunately, she had all the time in the world. She couldn’t rely on old excuses because she knew him well. Too well, in fact. Jyn had known every inch of not only his body, but his mind as well. There were so few vulnerabilities between them; they had borne their souls onto one another. They had nearly died together, but pulled themselves back from the brink. In the short time they’d had, Jyn felt as if she’d aged ten years. There was no longer her life and his because their lives had become so beautifully and tragically entangled. 

She hadn’t even realized it happened until those bridges were crossed. At what point did she know that she loved him? There were an infinite number from which to choose: the first time he smiled, the first they’d kissed, made love, fucked, when they’d survived, when he recruited a team for Scarif, when he shot Krennic. How could she reconcile herself to a life without him in it? He always returned for her. The all-consuming knowledge that he wouldn’t be coming back wrenched the air from her lungs.

After the first two days, she’d remain calm long enough to leave her room. Even so, Bodhi continued to sleep outside her door. Occasionally she’d go to the mess hall for food, but she’d leave without talking to anyone. Under the watchful eye of an entire base, she refused to quake, to cry, or to claw at her hair. Jyn steeled her spine and cleared her mind. A few people dared to approach her, but most were smart enough not to mention Cassian. The other surviving members of Rogue One encircled her, as if to protect her from the world which threatened to destroy her. Saw’s partisans treated her with a deference and respect that she didn’t feel entitled to. 

_Save that. Give it to someone who deserves it. Give it to anyone instead of me._

She appeared unnervingly calm in public, only to break down the moment she was alone. This time, four days after the mission on Boxbi, she’d caught a glance of Mon Mothma staring at her across the mess hall. They’d interacted, of course, just after they’d returned. Baze took it upon himself to debrief Mothma and Draven about the loss of Cassian, Kaytoo, most of the support team, and the partisans. Mon Mothma looked at her with pity, Draven at least had the decency to look shamefaced. Baze distracted them all while Chirrut and Bodhi protected her from view and led her away. They didn’t take her to her own quarters, instead they took her to Cassian’s. The door had been left open.

Suddenly, she’d was left alone with her thoughts with no one to yell at, no one to fight, no one to blame but herself. The old familiar loneliness enveloped her. Had she truly understood the word “agony” before watching Cassian die? Jyn felt as if she too had died, but her traitor heart kept beating. It wouldn’t let her slip into the oblivion she so desperately yearned for. Mercilessly, the bottle of Corellian whiskey she found was half empty. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t drink away his memory. 

Would his memory fade too from her memory? Would his name become just one more on a long list she’d never bothered to remember? She could picture his face and his smile, but she feared that would fade with time. Jyn realized, at some point after Cassian died, that she would outlive everyone around her. She always survived, even when she shouldn’t. Jyn never had deathwish, not even on Scarif, but she’d always been prepared to face death. Surviving merely postponed the inevitable. People like Jyn Erso did not live long or happy lives. It would be the universe’s last cruel joke upon her, giving her a long life while the one she loved died young. Crueler still, to give her a taste of happiness only to snatch it away. 

At eighty, would his memory still burn brightly in her mind? They had no holos together. They had nothing shared together besides the intimacy of their touch and the warmth of their hearts. There was no trinket, no memento she might cling to when she missed him most, late at night, when the world closed in around her.

She felt cold and empty. She tried to muster up her anger. She could work with anger. She thought of Lyra’s kyber crystal. It probably couldn’t even bring him back. And if it could? Could she stand his accusatory presence? Could she face her own failures? In a stupor, she stumbled across the room and took the treacherous crystal in her hands. She wanted to destroy it: dash it against every surface, throw it from a window, just to make sure the dead never returned to haunt her again. 

Even so, she longed to see his face. The thought of his face fading into a vague, half-remembered reminiscence terrified her. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d do anything, trade anything, to see him again.  


_Please_.

She didn't care

_Bring him back, give him back. It doesn't have to be me. Give him back to someone else. Let him love someone else who deserves him. I don't care if I have to see him somebody else's arms, just give him back_

She’d bowed her head as if to pray. She willed the Force, the gods, whoever might listen to her. No spectre appeared before her. The crystal didn’t burn her palm. The Force spared her the joy and the torment of seeing him again. Jyn flung the crystal away, it clattered across the floor far from her. At least her anger hadn’t completely abandoned her. 

“Is everything okay in there?” Bodhi called from the hallway.

Equal parts embarrassed and annoyed, Jyn took off her boot and chucked it at the door. Bodhi yelped satisfactorily. Immediately, Jyn felt incredibly guilty. 

“I’m sorry!” 

Picking on Bodhi wouldn’t bring Cassian back. It wouldn’t bring Kaytoo back, either. In her grief, she’d barely acknowledged that Kay perished in the crash, too. One more thing to feel guilty and terrible about. 

_At least they went together._

She envied them. They’d spent years together. Who was she, a petty criminal and unwilling rebel, to pretend that she suffered the most at Cassian’s death? There might be two dozen members of the Alliance—Mothma and Draven among that number—who might mourn him as much as she.

But then, that wasn’t quite right. Cassian didn’t have many friends before the assemblage of Rogue One. It had been him and Kaytoo before that. The people who raised glasses of drink and offered up toasts in his memory hadn’t known the man, not really. Certainly not as she had. He’d be a hero, to be honored and esteemed. But she’d known the man. Cassian, the man who’d given everything for twenty years for a cause simply because he believed in it. Cassian, the man who’d done horrible things despite loathing the work because it was necessary. Cassian, who never felt worthy of her because he’d once been sent to kill her father. 

_Neither of us felt worthy, did we? Maybe that’s why we struggled to say the words…_

She’d never told him that she loved him. Regret would become her mistress in life, she knew. Her aversion to settling down, her restless spirit, her fear of abandonment, all of the things that encouraged cowardice in her. For years, she’d kept her head down and refused to be a part of the world surrounding her. Cassian refused to let that continue and she was grateful. He’d let her become part of something bigger than herself, and in turn, she’d loved him wildly and passionately. The old habits, however, always crept back upon her when the time to admit her feelings appeared

Her most natural impulses—to run and fight—kicked in. Without anywhere to run, or anyone to attack, she settled for taking the bottle in her hands, throwing it across the room with as much strength as she could muster in her aching body. The crash didn’t satisfy her the way she’d expected. Instead, the shattering glass was a painful reminder that Cassian wasn’t around anymore to pick up her messes.

Bodhi banged on the door.

“Jyn! Jyn! Will you stop throwing things for a moment and talk to me, please? I’m right outside the door—”

Suddenly, the mechanism unlocked and the door opened for him, revealing an unkempt and very drunk Jyn Erso. He hoped that she felt better than she looked.

“Are you ever going to leave me alone, Bodhi?” She asked wearily.

“Nope.”

Cautiously, as if expecting a flying object to collide with his head, he stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. He noted the shattered bottle against the opposite wall and tried to ignore how lost she looked. He stooped down, and began collecting the jagged shards of glass

“Oh Bodhi, don’t do that. It was my fault, I’m an idiot. Let me help.”

She tried to kneel down, but she lost her balance and nearly fell over. Bodhi, sensing that she didn’t realize her level of inebriation, gently stopped her before she could cut herself. All of the anger in Jyn’s body melted away. How could she ever be angry around Bodhi? 

All her life, she’d let her emotions run away with her. By design, Jyn was destructive. Saw gave her so much fire that she burned anyone who might try to touch her. She wouldn’t hurt Bodhi as well as herself. 

“I’m sorry about throwing the boot at the door.”

“Don’t even worry about it, after all we’ve been through? It’s nothing. I survived a grenade being thrown at me! A grenade! After that what’s a boot gonna do to me?”

He must’ve said something, because tears began to roll down her cheeks. Hurriedly, she brushed them away and tried to stand up straighter. She’d always been terrible at controlling her feelings. Jyn felt her emotions too violently. 

_Cassian pretended that he didn’t feel emotions at all._

Her shoulders began to shake. She knew it wasn’t fair to Bodhi, it wasn’t his job to comfort her. Before she knew what happened, he pulled her into an embrace, locking his arms around her. She cried herself dry into his jacket, arms hanging limply at her sides. One more, she felt the fire extinguish itself and the numbness return.

When she’d snuffled out, she weakly remembered fighting against him.

“I scratched you, didn’t I?’

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Let me see it. Please?”

“That’s not for you to worry about. Better you did that to me than yourself.”

She choked back a sob and looked up into his eyes, searching for a glimmer of what she’d lost. Big, sweet eyes. A few days of stubble. Slightly red-rimmed eyes. He mourned, too. Tenderly, she took his face in her hands and kissed him. She closed her eyes and imagined a different time and a different place, with a different man. 

“None of that, now.” Bodhi whispered, taking her hands from his face and returning them to her sides. 

Opening her eyes, she felt bewildered. Bodhi, on the other hand, didn’t look confused. Understanding flickered in his eyes. He, at least, understood the absurdity of her actions, even though she could not.

“This won’t help you, Jyn.” He spoke to her gently, but he couldn’t mask the unmistakable sound of concern in his voice.

“Maybe it will.”

His smile showed her a kindness that she did not warrant.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

What did she do, she wondered, to deserve a friend like Bodhi Rook?

 

Jyn kept hoping, of course, that she had been wrong about Cassian and Kaytoo. For all her cynicism, she tricked herself into hoping. But as the days passed, even Chirrut would find it difficult to maintain optimism. After the first few days, she spent more and more time out of Cassian’s old quarters. It had been a sweet gesture, taking her there, but the loss still felt too raw.

More than one night, she fell asleep on a mothridden pallet in Baze and Chirrut’s room. Baze stole it from somewhere (privately, she thought from the medbay) so she wouldn’t have to make the long, cold walk back to her room alone. They traded stories to keep her mind occupied: they bickered over small details, Chirrut embellished for fun, Baze growled disagreements. Chirrut brewed tea that warmed her stomach more than whiskey ever could.

Slowly, the attention of her friends began to fill the hollow pit in her heart. Judiciously, they avoided speaking about the war, Cassian, or Kaytoo. Once or twice, Chirrut came dangerously close but Baze would interrupt him and start a new argument. Jyn was grateful for their companionship.

One night, a little after midnight, when the lamps burned low and the feeling of comradeship had swelled around them all, Jyn sat cross-legged on the pallet, with Cassian’s blue parka draped over her shoulders. Chirrut’s spot was on the bed, on a pillow, while Baze sat in a chair and Bodhi chose a spot near Jyn.

They’d been joking about war wounds and good fights; something most of them had in common. Except Bodhi. He’d been in a fistfight once, but it hadn’t ended well for him. Jyn regaled them all with the story of how she’d beaten up the first boy who’d try to kiss her.

“So I told him: ‘if you aren’t good enough to fight me, what makes you think you can kiss me?’ I’ve never seen anyone run so fast.”

The others laughed uproariously; Chirrut had tears falling down his face, Bodhi clutched at his sides, even Baze chuckled. R3, who Chirrut had adopted, beeped appreciatively from his spot in the corner. She found herself smiling, too. The tightness in her chest had lifted enough that she could breathe again. She looked at the faces around her and welcomed the rush of affection towards them. She couldn’t find the words to thank them; if she tried, certainly it would ruin the moment. She hoped they knew.

Someday, she’d want to talk about Cassian. They would all want to share in his memory and his life, for whatever time they’d shared together. When that day arrived, they would be there for her to ease her through the pain and joy of remembering. Of everyone at Echo Base, they were the only people who might understand her grief. For now, however, Cassian Andor belonged to the ages.

After they quieted, she heard what might have been a faint knocking at the door.

“Probably the neighbors. They don’t care for us when we’re loud.”

The knocking continued, more aggressive this time, as if the person on the other side of the door grew increasingly impatient with each knock. Bodhi, the closest to the door, shrugged and moved to open it.

“Might as well. Otherwise they’ll just continue this all night—we’re coming!”

He opened the door and his mouth fell open, completely agape. On the threshold stood a very perturbed looking Kaytoo, who supported a ragged and bloody Cassian Andor.

“Don’t all get up at once.”

Ignoring Kaytoo, Cassian pushed passed him and stumbled straight to Jyn. There, in full view of the others and without a word, he rested his head upon her lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! There will probably be an update of "Intimacy" before the next "Callsigns" update, but rest assured that the next chapter will have a lot of Jyn x Cassian <3


	12. Octave Stairway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Kaytoo sit in vigil over Cassian as they wait for him to wake up.

_Jyn. I need to get back to Jyn._

Cassian repeated this mantra to himself, over and over, as he herded Saw’s partisans towards the ships. He didn’t have time to behind himself, he only prayed that Baze could get to her before the Stormtroopers did. When they’d gotten halfway back to the ship, Baze had stopped abruptly and turned back, shouting that they could manage the rest and he would manage Jyn. Cassian knew she could defend herself, but even so, knowing she stood alone with enemies advancing nearly ripped his heart out.

The partisan at his elbow, a green-skinned teenager, nearly crumpled to the ground. Cassian hoisted him by the armpits and pushed him ahead, dodging fire from the TIE fighters above. It was a hell of a day to die. He urged his body forward, grabbing rebels and allies alike as they stumbled and fell. He listened intently, even over the rage and terror of the fight on the ground and in the air. Kaytoo charged ahead, carrying two partisans under his arms, carried like sacks of flour. Chirrut broke off to shepherd a grievously wounded Alliance foot soldier onto Rogue One.

_If she gets hit, I’d know, I’d know, I’d know…_

In a moment, he’d reached the carrier vessel. He pushed rebel after rebel roughly aboard. He didn’t have time for them, they didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that Jyn was far away, possibly wounded, probably scared, even if she’d never admit it to him. 

As he helped one of Saw’s men onto the ship, a dying Stormtrooper on the ground saw his opening. Raising his blaster, he took a shot at the Captain. Luckily, it wasn’t a perfect shot. Cassian nearly collapsed to the ground, he let out an involuntary scream of pain and clutched at his side, nearly sinking to his knees.

_Jyn._

Instead, he pivoted and scanned to find the source of the shot. His head swimming with pain, he fired at the trooper, landing a direct hit. All of the partisans were loaded, and he made as if to dash back into the fray. Before he could even get off the ramp, however, Kaytoo grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him up the loading ramp. Cassian struggled and fought, but Kaytoo ignored him.

“YOU. ARE. WOUNDED. If you go out there, your probability of dying is—"

“JYN IS OUR THERE!” Cassian sounded half-mad, terrified.

“Baze will have gotten to her by now. She will be fine. We must get off the ground.”

Cassian wanted to argue, to leave the partisans behind. They weren't his friends, they weren't _Jyn_. He shouldn't care if they lived or died. And yet, he did. Maybe after decades of killing, he wanted to see someone make it out alive. He had to admit that Kaytoo was right in his calculations, as well: heading back into the fight would mean certain death; his side rippled excruciatingly. The stench of his own burning flesh nauseated him. The trooper had shot the same spot where he’d taken been shot on Scarif. 

Kaytoo deposited him with the partisans and left to tend to the cockpit. In a moment, they began their ascent.

_I left her. I abandoned her. I left her. I abandoned her. She’s out there alone. I left her._

His mind became clouded with pain, but through it he could still see her face. He’d left her, betrayed her and their love one last time. Overwhelming guilt surged through his body, a guilt that he couldn't ignore. As they climbed over Boxbi, it took a proton torpedo to the hull to knock him back to his senses. Fire and light suddenly exploded within the cabin, partisans lay on the floor, screaming and bleeding and burning. A hole had been ripped in the side of the carrier. Collecting himself, he staggered upright and began helping the partisans to bail out, pushing them desperately for the trees until Kaytoo barreled into Cassian and jumped with him into the void. 

_I never told her._

As they spiraled towards the ground, Cassian spent his final moments picturing her face, and her voice, calling his name as though her life depended on it…

  


Jyn did not want to let go of his hand. From the moment he rested his head in her lap, she knew she wouldn't give up his touch again. Chirrut and Bodhi finally convinced him to go to the medbay for a full medical check. Even after summoning help, Baze and Chirrut’s room flooded with curious staff, Jyn didn’t drop her hold on his hand. She let Bodhi push the wheelchair, but she kept pace with it to avoid leaving his side for even the shortest second. 

When Mon Mothma and Draven visited, she refused to let go or look away. She didn’t care if they saw, and Cassian—if he did care anymore—was too weak to argue. Secretly, she thought that if she let her hand drop or if she diverted her gaze, he’d be gone when she looked back. She worried that she was stuck in a dream, playing out an elaborate fantasy where he was still alive. But his hand in hers felt alive and even his weak pulse sounded so real that she let herself trust her senses. Silently, she thanked whoever had listened to her pleading.

In a hushed voice so as not to disturb Cassian’s slumber, Kaytoo explained how they survived. After the carrier was hit, he said, Cassian waited crucial seconds to bail out to make sure the partisans made it out first. He’d waited to get close enough to the treetops so that Kay wouldn’t damage too badly in the fall. Unfortunately, the wait increased his risk. When they finally jumped, Cassian's blaster wound had been ripped open in the fall. The partisans had been killed on impact; they’d missed their target. Jyn tried not to think about Saw’s rebels, impaled on tree branches or crushed on the ground. It wasn’t a death worthy of him. Kaytoo had spent the next few days hiding out in the woods, hiding from Stormtrooper patrols who scanned and swept through the woods. Eventually, they found the old campsite and utilizing spare parts from the carrier, were able to fix the partisan’s ship well enough to risk flight. Still, the trip nearly killed Cassian.

Long after the others had gone to bed, Kaytoo stood vigil with her in the medbay. She’d never been one to pal around with Kaytoo, but she felt strangely grateful for his company. She couldn’t muster the strength to be frustrated at Kaytoo, not when he’d saved Cassian from death. Instead, she wanted to thank him, in some small way. Like handing him the blaster on Scarif, she hoped to broker something like friendship between herself and the droid. 

“I thought he’d die this time. The probability of his survival was small…” She detected an unusually pensive quality to Kaytoo’s voice. 

“I don’t know how to thank you. You brought him back to me.” 

“I didn’t bring him back for _you_.”

Jyn managed a small laugh. Typical. 

“I brought him back for all of us.”

She turned her face away so that Kaytoo wouldn’t see the tears that threatened to fall. Quickly, she rubbed away the sting.

“He talked about you,” Kaytoo continued conversationally, “I thought he’d lost his mind. He had a high fever and he wouldn’t stop saying your name.”

Cassian shifted slightly in the bed. The medical droids had sedated him while they conducted their scans, only then did Jyn release his hand. Jyn made sure her face was the last thing he saw before he fell asleep. He was so weak that he could hardly form coherent words, but he’d managed to say her name before passing into oblivion. The sound of her name on his lips nearly broke her heart. He’d nearly died so many times, and yet he pushed himself and pushed himself, nearly killing himself once more, to return to her. 

He began to grow restless, so Jyn stood up from her chair and sat on the edge of the bed instead. Lightly, she stroked his hand. He looked so young and innocent in his sleep; she envisioned him as a little boy tired after a day of playing instead of a man wounded in a war. In twenty years, the only peace he’d known was sleep. She wondered who Cassian Andor would have been without the war, without the Alliance. Would she still love him? Without the loss and pain and war, they might be completely different people set on completely paths. Nevertheless, something in her heart told her that they still would have met, that they still would have loved each other.

_I’d find you. I would’ve searched a thousand star systems until I found you._

Jyn, a consummate realist, usually felt unwilling to indulge in romantic notions. But, she couldn’t help but wonder: how else could he have survived and come back home? The Force was a powerful thing. She wouldn’t question it because fate had brought them together, tore them apart, and then brought them together again. Jyn wouldn’t tell Cassian that, of course. The thought was too rosy to fit their chaotic lives. Still, she liked the idea. There was a comfort in believing that no matter what, they’d return to one another, as if ordained by the Force itself.

He blinked open his eyes. They focused on Jyn. Only on Jyn. Nothing else in the universe mattered to him, except that she was there and that he could touch her. Jyn moved closer, placing her head upon his chest so that she could hear his murmurs.

“I…I’m so sorry.”

Jyn's eyes met his and she realized that his eyes shone bright and wet. 

“I thought I could get them back to the ship and still get back to you."

“Don’t apologize for any of that.”

Cassian shook his head and tried to prop himself on his elbows. It became obvious to Jyn that merely speaking sapped him of his strength rapidly. Gingerly, she pushed him back onto the pillow.

“I thought that I had time.” His voice quivered and broke. He looked away.

“You do, Cassian.”

She took his hand again and squeezed. If they were lucky, they'd have an entire lifetime together. She didn’t need to explain to him, she hoped that he’d simply understand what she’d meant. Maybe it wouldn’t always be perfect, maybe it would sometimes hurt like hell, but it would be theirs. In the moments when they were happy, truly, incandescently happy, they burned together like a pair of suns. Together, they’d survived certain death. If they could do that, who’s to say they couldn’t conquer living together as well? 

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again. First, you fall down on Scarif and now you fall out of a damn ship! Gravity doesn’t like you very much, does it?”

“It’s a good thing that you like me then,” he tried to smirk mischievously through the bruises and scrapes. 

His smile filled her with a radiating light, as if the past week had never happened. As if he’d never died and come back. As if they’d never been separated in the first place. If ever there was a moment to tell him how she felt, now was it. Like everything else, it wouldn’t be planned or rehearsed. Instead, it was simply _Jyn_. He would expect nothing else.

“I—” began Cassian, but before he could complete the thought, Jyn blurted over him.

“I love you!”

He stared at her as if he’d never quite seen anyone like her before. Slowly, a small smile crept across his face even as he winced.

“You know, smiling hurts, but it’s worth it. You know I was going to say it, right? Is that why you just shouted it at me? Couldn’t let me say it first?”

“You did say it first. After Eadu, I heard you.”

“I had to practice. But, I guess I'll be saying it more often now."

They sat in silence for a while, beaming at each other. Despite her long struggle to admit her feelings, actually saying the words felt like a weight lifted off of her shoulders. She wanted to say it again and again, but she became aware of the fact that Kaytoo had been present for their entire conversation when he sighed theatrically.

“If the two of you wish to make love in the medbay, inform me now so that I may flee.” 

 

Eventually, a fastidious medical droid tried to kick Jyn out as a matter of proper protocol. Jyn had looked around the room for an object she could improvise into a weapon, but she need not have worried. Kaytoo, standing to his full 7’1 height, loomed over the unfortunate droid. Managing a squeak of terror, the droid informed Jyn that actually, yes,the visiting hours had been miraculously extended and she was welcome to continue her watch.

Surprisingly, Kaytoo left them alone. He claimed some excuse or another, but Jyn knew the truth. She thought that perhaps, Kaytoo had warmed up towards her after all. As soon as he’d gone, she climbed into Cassian’s bed and rested her head against his shoulder. Cassian had always been thin, but now she could feel his collarbone through his shirt. It wasn’t the most comfortable position for her head, but she hardly even noticed. Their jagged edges had become familiar, even dear. One more didn’t matter.

After a week without her, he wanted to hear her voice. He asked her, fondly, to tell him about the Octave Stairway—the old fairytale story her father had taught her as a child. She explained the story as he listened raptly: Brin, a young adventurer, undertakes an epic adventure to find his home by descending the legendary Octave Stairway which grants magical powers and takes the hero home in the end. Many nights, she refused to sleep until she’d watched the holo two or three times, much to the chagrin of her mother.

“What if I told you that the Octave Stairway was real?”

“Did you hit your head when you fell out of that ship?”

“No,” he said, restraining himself from chuckling, “but I could take you home. We could go to your home on Lah’mu.”

“I don’t know if I want to return there.”

“But that’s where all of this began, isn’t it? It’s where you lost your mother and your father. It's where Saw found you. I think we could find out why you’ve—we’ve had these visions if we go back there.”

In the wake of Cassian’s return from the dead, her visions from the kyber crystal seemed trivial, as if it were a problem that belonged to a separate life. In truth, she'd not given it much thought since he returned. That being said, the thought of leaving the Alliance behind, if only for a short while, tempted her. After failing mission after mission, she knew that they both could do with time away. Why throw away the opportunity?

 

They drifted together, as if on an ocean’s tide, between sleep and wakefulness. She lost track of the hours and simply gave herself up the comfort of his embrace. When they were awake, she gave him small kisses on the unbruised parts of his body, desperate to demonstrate her love. While they slept, she mouthed his name without speaking. Neither dreamed. Perhaps they didn’t need to anymore; their waking lives had surpassed any dream their imaginations could conjure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this penultimate chapter. I can't believe there's only one more left. I've finished writing it, I just need to do some last minute editing. Expect it up Sunday morning EST.


	13. Hearts of Kyber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a last effort to understand their visions, Jyn and Cassian travel to Lah'mu together.

The amount of time that Jyn could remain near Cassian’s medbay bed and remain respectability in the eyes of her superiors dwindled quickly. Jyn might not care, but Cassian did. She’d have duties, if not missions, to attend to soon. That’s why, when the medbay miraculously cleared in the middle of the day, Jyn took it upon herself to use the time wisely.

At first, Cassian hadn’t really registered what she was up to. His body still lingered in a painful limbo between injury and recovery, and it took him a moment to register her warm touch upon his body, seeking him out. Covertly, she positioned herself to shield Cassian from the doorway’s view in case they were interrupted. Beginning slowly then building steadily, she coaxed him back to life with her caress. 

It wasn’t a good idea. It wasn’t anything approaching a good idea. But Jyn, with her impetuous spirit and untamed desire, wanted him sooner rather than later. On the one hand, he had recently suffered a blaster bolt to his side and fallen out of a ship. He could use with more rest before any form of heavy exertion. On the other hand, he was twenty-six, a man, and Jyn began tempting him with well-aimed kisses to his neck. She might destroy him, but he loved her for it. His choice was obvious.

 

Several days before it would have ordinarily been admissible, the medical droids discharged Cassian and sent him back to his own quarters. He could almost hear his bones creak when he moved, but he and Jyn were both glad he was out early. Cassian, intending to carry out his earlier plan, requested a few days of leave for “additional recovery.” In reality, he and Jyn packed their bags and duffles for a trip to Lah’mu.  
Chirrut, Bodhi, and Baze saw them off and promised to run intervention if Draven asked any questions about their absence. Kaytoo, glum and irritated at his lack of invitation, found “better things to do.” They opted to travel light on a UT-60D U-wing Starfighter borrowed from a connection of Cassian’s. They left Rogue One in the care of their friends. 

For this trip, they wouldn’t be Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso, heroes of the rebellion. Instead, they’d be a young couple on a sightseeing venture, scoping out a new summer villa on Lah’mu. As they climbed aboard their ship, Jyn was struck by the mundane nature of their outing. Had they, in their months together, taken a trip off-base together? No, she decided, they hadn’t. There’d always been a mission, a goal, someone to save, or someone to kill. She watched him pressing buttons in the cockpit, looking for clues as to his feelings.

Was he also thinking about how differently their lives would be if it weren’t for the rebellion? Was he secretly wishing they could really just be a young couple, exploring for fun? She doubted it. Still, a part of her longed for peaceful days and restful nights, especially given their recent misadventures. Would that be the kind of life they’d like to live, though? She bet not. Cassian devoted his life to a cause and she’d devoted her life to running and surviving. Their skills and traits did not suit domestic living well.

She sat in the co-pilot chair, following Cassian’s directions carefully. After they’d taken off, she casually rested her crossed legs on the dashboard. At some point, he must have become accustomed to her constant disarray. He loved her for that, she knew: her scrappiness, her roughness, her lack of refinement. 

Still, their relationship had always been built on affection. Jyn, in a moment of whimsy, reached out and curled her fingers over his hand. She brushed him with her thumb without looking his way. It was just a small reminder that she was there, that she was _his_. 

As she watched the blue and black streaks of hyperspace speed by, she decided that she’d never let him go again. Where he went, she would go too. Where she went, she’d drag him along. Wherever they travelled, on whatever mission, they would fly as one. The details didn’t matter. Whatever callsigns they used, they would be together. She’d pick fights, of course, she couldn’t help it. But they’d forgive each other every time, given time. She’d never again push him away, how could she, when she knew what loving him was like? Was this how Baze and Chirrut felt, every time they were together? Had Galen and Lyra loved like this? 

Jyn determined, then and there, that she would live to see Cassian’s hair turn grey. Her restless heart, his tortured mind, they weren’t a children’s bedtime love story. Still, they built their love on a foundation of kyber. Their hearts were strong. If all they ever had was the force of her will and the power of his resolve, they would be just fine.

For a long time, they flew together in silence. Most of their time was spent in quiet companionship, punctuated by small talk, half-formed jokes, or the occasional armor-piercing question. Only on very rare occasions had she felt the need to bare her soul to him. On some level, she already knew that he understood the deepest parts of her. Mutual understanding, she’d call it. It was when they tried to open their mouths and talk things out that the problems seemed to arise. Somehow, they could communicate with a look or a touch, but forming words and articulating meaning alluded them both. Emotions and control clashed together.

“Are you afraid?”

Breaking out of her reverie, she considered his question carefully before speaking. Usually, she’d go with whatever thought grabbed her attention. This time, however, she wanted to be precise in her words.  
“I’m afraid of seeing my mother. I’m afraid of not seeing my mother. I’m afraid I’ll see Saw or my father again. I’m afraid that I’ll go only to not get the answers I want, or worse yet, get none at all. I’m afraid of a lot of things.”

Jyn Erso, admiting her fear? A rarity, to be sure.

“I don’t understand why you saw your father and Saw, but I saw Tivik. There was a time when I would have given anything to see my father again, or the man who raised me.”

“I don’t know. Chirrut told me that some people believe that kyber holds onto those we love for us, and keeps them close. He said that some people share a heart of kyber.”

“I didn’t love Tivik, Jyn. I hardly knew him. I only killed him.”

He tried to keep his voice light, but she sensed the pain that resonated there.

Pondering his words, they both lapsed in silence. The longer they travelled through space and time, the more apprehensive Jyn grew. What would they find on Lah’mu? Likely, they wouldn’t find anything. She couldn’t decide if ignorance or truth was better. Jyn never sought answers to the questions in her life until Cassian came along. For too long, it had been easier to keep her head down, stay silent, run away. Facing her demons face-to-face took a tremendous learning curve. 

Touching down, she felt her stomach leap into her chest. Cassian led the way, sensing her trepidation. When she stepped foot onto the loamy soil of Lah’mu, she was struck by a sudden pang of homesickness and nostalgia. This way the place where everything had begun; the place where her life had changed irrevocably. She’d lost everything here. The events here all those years ago directly led to Jedha, to Eadu, to Scarif. To Cassian.

It looked just as she’d remembered it: the farmer’s hut was a burned out husk, droids and machinery alike had fallen into disrepair. The fields lay barren of crops, instead they’d been overrun by vines and weeds. Uneasiness gnawed at her nerves. Childishly, for a moment she wondered if she might find the holo about the Octave Stairway or if she’d find her long-lost toy, Stormy. Together, they walked through the fields and passed geysers and volcanic rocks. Eventually, they came to a cliff overlooking the salt sea with its beautiful black sand. 

She thought of her mother, wrapping her in her arms, handing her the crystal, then crumpling in a field in front of her eyes. The mother who’d long suffered for her daughter’s reckless spirit but who loved her anyway, even when she favored Galen. The mother who she couldn’t save. She thought next of her father, crying and holding Lyra, then disappearing with Krennic with his wife’s blood still on his hands. She thought of Saw, rescuing her from the bunker, taking her in his arms and leading her away. She thought of the little girl who had seen too much too young. She mourned for the little girl nearly as much as for the family that she’d lost. 

Softly, she tread upon the ground. They were here, she knew. In the quiet, the only sound she could hear was the calm rustle of wind through the trees. She did not want to fear the dead, Jyn knew that they could no longer cause her harm. As if called, one by on, they materialized in front of her. Some Jyn knew, some she didn’t. First, her father in his uniform looking just as she remembered him, then Saw with his legs intact and a smile on his face, finally, a petite woman not much taller than herself. She felt the hot tear tracks running down her cheeks at the sight of her mother. Another man came next, with Cassian’s same lovely, deep, brown eyes though less haunted by trauma, a lovely woman at his side with honey skin and dark, dark hair. A tall man appeared next with wild, laughing eyes and shaggy grey hair. His mentor?

“I see them too.”

Cassian’s voice reached her as if from across a chasm. Moving in unison, they inched closer to the figures on the cliff. Still more appeared behind their families; the friends she’d lost as a partisan, Tivik, the men and women he’d betrayed and killed, the men who hadn’t returned from Scarif. There was nothing accusatory about their presence now. She sought Cassian’s hand with her own. Her other hand gripped the kyber crystal in her pocket. 

“Why are you here?”

She called to them through the void separating life and death, ignoring the beckoning silence. She stood tall; her knees didn’t buckle, her voice didn’t quiver. They didn’t answer her, they didn’t haunt her as before. Her father looked on with her pride. Her mother’s eyes brimmed with tears. Cassian’s parents linked their hands as they gazed upon their son. Beside her, Cassian’s grasp on her hand remained firm. His eyes searched the faces of his parents, as if begging them for answers they could not give.

Chirrut’s words reverberated in her mind. 

_Some souls are so closely connected, that they share hearts of kyber._

They didn’t need the crystal to know the dead watched over them. They didn’t need the crystal in order to remember or to forget what they’d lost. As long as they had the kyber crystal, they’d be linked to the past forever. 

Without another word, she took the kyber crystal out of her pocket and let it rest in her palm one final time. It burned with the old familiar intensity, as if it used all of its power to summon back spectres of the dead. Now, she knew why it had given her comfort all this time. 

In that moment, understanding dawned upon her. She didn't know how. The kyber held onto them because they held on to them. They could never move forward as long as they kept looking back. All along, they’d been urging her to move on. They silently urged her to take the chance she’d been given, run away from this place, and never look back. Their own guilt and shame obscured the true purpose of the kyber for a long time. Now, however, it was time to let go for good so she could embrace the man beside her fully. 

She looked into Cassian’s eyes and saw confusion and wonder. Together, they held the crystal. Without a word, Jyn arched her arm and flung the crystal into the sea. Before it disappeared into the waves, she and Cassian had a moment left to look into the eyes of their parents. The instant the crystal hit the water, however, the shades vanished into thin air. 

Before they disappeared, she could have sworn she heard a voice echo upon the wind: 

_My Stardust, we wasted so much of our lives. Do not waste yours._

For a long time, they stood together watching the cliff, neither moving, utterly transfixed. Holding one another, they sank to the ground as they had on the beaches at Scarif. Leaning upon one another, they sharing strength and pain in equal measure. The sun had begun to set by the time they broke apart their embrace. Behind them, the sun sank behind the salt seas, reflecting and refracting shimmering light upon them. 

They didn’t need talismans. They only needed each other. Hands intertwined, they walked away from the cliffs and the shores of Lah’mu. As one, they turned their backs on the past and looked to the future. Their hearts of kyber burned bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and sticking with me through all of this! I listened to the Jyn Erso/Hope Suite almost the entire time I spent writing the last chapter. It’s so hauntingly beautiful, I couldn’t think of better mood music. If you have any questions about this fic (especially since the “heart of kyber” concept is fairly vague) I’m happy to answer. I’m going to continue writing “Intimacy”, and I have another fic in the works called “Extraordinary” which will be a much darker take on surviving Scarif. If I think of a storyline that I like, would you like me to continue on with Callsigns? Let me know, I’m open to suggestions. Thank you again, for all the support and love you’ve sent my way. May the Force of others be with you.


End file.
